Marvel
by Xx-3044-xX
Summary: A Breredith Fan-Fiction Meredith's made it big time - and now, so have her friends! But close proximity to a certain Brian Holden makes tensions run high and hopes even higher. Hurt, anguish, despair, joy, ecstasy, love and Hollywood engage for a battle of epic proportions and even more epic results, be them good... or bad.
1. Interview

Brian made his way over to the couch in his apartment, taking care not to trip over the new rug and send both he and his popcorn sprawling. He held the bowl of popcorn level to his head in his right, extended hand, and walked across the room and took a seat next to Walker, who wasted no time at all stealing a handful of the snack before Brian was even situated comfortably. Brian scowled playfully at him and he smiled, his mouth still full of food, mockingly back. "So what'd I miss?" he asked.

"Nothing much," said Dylan. "They've just announced she's gonna be on."

"The audience?"

"Went bonkers," said Lauren. "And with good reason, considering her status now."

"I still can't believe it," said Jaime, shaking her head. "_Our_ Mere, on _Downpour_."

Julia shrugged and smiled proudly. "Knew she'd go far," she said. "Just gotta wait for the rest of us to catch up, ey Nick?" she prodded the Lang she addressed with her elbow.

"Absolutely," Nick agreed.

The television buzzed and the host man, unknown to Brian but apparently to some of the others, said, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, Meredith Stepien!"

The audience went as bonkers as Lauren had said it had before. And then Meredith stepped out from behind a large blue tapestry and smiled becomingly, waving at the crowd. As she walked toward the chair, Brian noticed she wasn't wearing anything too excessively flashy - a knee-length, ruffled green skirt, and a white tank-top covered by an aqua sweater-jacket, which matched her sandals. Simple, but beautiful, as always. Her chocolate eyes swiveled over the crowd in a friendly manner and her brown locks shone under the lights. She took her seat across from the man. Then Brian noticed he was the only one in the room who hadn't applauded her entrance on the show; he was too busy smiling, and swatting Walker's hand away from his popcorn.

As the audience slowly died down and greetings were exchanged, the man asked her, "So, Meredith, I understand you're working on a new project."

Meredith grinned cheekily and shook her head. "No project in particular," she told him. "Just a few tweaks of things on the show."

"What kind of tweaks?" he asked, choosing to pursue that line of conversation.

"Oh, no big things," she said, waving it off. "Just a couple of people, costumes, lines here and there. Well, I'm trying."

"They let you have such reign?" he asked her, raising her eyebrows.

Meredith laughed. "Well, I'm also one of the writers, so yes, they do."

"What kind of people, or costumes?"

She never seemed to stop smiling, and it never lost its sincerity. "Just a few of my closest, most talented friends," she said. "And they just let me sometimes choose the 'genre' for the costumes, but wardrobe is really a lot better when it comes to letting the professionals deal with it. They know what the viewers want from the show."

"Speaking of the show," he said, leaning forward slightly, "What new plot twists are there? Any spoilers?"

Meredith out-right guffawed. "No spoilers!" she announced, and the crowd groaned. "You can't expect me to give everything out! Don't you people like surprises anymore?"

"So, no new characters, or anything?" he pressed.

"A fair few," she admitted. "A couple new characters, if I can get the people for them. And a few people leave…"

"Leave?" he asked, nearly jumping on her every word. There were a few murmurs around Brian, and he knew they were all thinking the same thing: Who was leaving the show? "Who does?"

"Two characters," she said. "That's all you're getting. And I'm sorry they had to go, but it was crucial to the story and plot."

The interviewer sighed, like the crowd, and leaned back, relaxed again. "Any other new projects?" he asked her.

"Well, I've heard rumors that Broadway wants me again, but I'm inclined to think them false," she said.

"Why is that?"

She shrugged. "They'd have given me warning, wouldn't they have? They did the last time."

He nodded, as if contemplating this, but they knew he was thinking of ways to dig up information. And then he smiled the friendly-host smile at her, and said, "You speak of the last time, when you were on Broadway in _The Author's Sister_. what was that like?"

Her face, filled with pure happiness, flickered into a thoughtful and indecisive expression. "Amazing," she said. "Just amazing. The cast was great, the writing was great, everyone was so talented and kind - it was the kind of thing I'd always dreamed about. The show itself was fun, very fun."

"What made it fun?"

"The people, the plot - mostly the audience." She grinned. "You had some coming in that broke down sobbing at the least sad things possible, and some that roared with laughter when a terrible pun was made. The audiences varied so greatly every night, and observing them was a lot of fun. And, the fact that it was, in fact, an audience and full house every night was awesome. Just to let you all know, every audience and every single member of it is appreciated," she announced, looking out at the crowd fondly.

They cheered unnecessarily, and the people around Brian all nodded their approval of her assessment. His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

"I understand," said the host, silencing the crowd, "that one of your old friends was in the show with you?"

"Oh, yes!" she bobbed her head enthusiastically. "Darren Criss, one of my best friends! He was amazing, as always."

"What part did he play?"

"My character's brother's friend's fiancee," she said.

The interviewer raised his eyebrows. "Really? What was it like, seeing him after all that time?"

Meredith's eyebrows furrowed, as opposed to his. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you hadn't seen him for a while, and then you're in a show together -"

"Hadn't seen him in a while?" Meredith laughed. "Please, I saw him two weeks prior! I see all of my friends as often as I can, over video chat or in person, whatever we can fit into the schedules."

"So, no matter what or where or how or when, your friends and you stay in touch?"

Meredith chuckled. "My friends are my family, and family is my one top priority. You wouldn't just stop talking to your mom, would you, upon moving away? No, you love them so you see them as much as you can."

Brian was sure he wasn't the only one smirking in the room.

"So you still love them?"

"Still?" Meredith scoffed. "I always will. Like I said, they're my family."

"Are you going to see them soon?"

"Hopefully." Her eyes glinted mischievously.

"You don't have plans?"

"If things go my way, I will," she said, cryptically. Brian looked around and met the other confused stares. "And if not, I'll see them anyway. I'm way overdue for a visit."

"When was the last time you saw them?" he asked, almost like he was losing curiosity. Brian recognized the reverse psychology. Luckily, so did Meredith.

"About…" she paused for a moment, thinking. "Four months ago?" She winced. "In person, that is. I still chat with them, of course, but I really need to see them soon."

There were nods and shouts of agreement. "We miss you!" screamed Denise at the television uselessly.

"So, what plans might bring them to you soon?" he inquired, failing the studied-casual approach of sitting back.

"Just a few tweaks."

Her original statement rung out:_ "No project in particular," she told him. "Just a few tweaks of things on the show." _Brian caught Dylan's eye, and they both grinned foolishly, wondering what she was planning or trying to do._  
_

"Alright," he said, obviously not catching her reference. "Missing some more than others?"

"I miss some qualities in some more than others," she responded fairly. "For example, I miss Lauren's defecation jokes, and Jaime's comforts when I needed them."

Lauren and Jaime both whooped, and high-fived to the giggles of the room..

"Any _boy_ qualities you're missing?"

"Naturally," she replied. "Dylan's constant humorous cussing, Walker's sarcasm, Brian's general personality, etcetera."

"You had specific things about the two first boys," said the man, smirking, thinking he'd won something evidently. "The last, I'm assuming, is Brian Holden, and you just basically said you miss everything about him."

The entire room had grown stone-cold, but Meredith seemed unphased. "I miss everything about all of my friends," she said. "It's just almost all of them have a certain trait or characteristic that shapes their personality a bit and gives them an easy point to define missing. Brian's personality is well-rounded enough to make him general to miss. Jaime and Julia are like that, too."

The room hadn't moved.

"You had something specific for Jaime," he pointed out.

A few people shifted uncomfortably around the statues seated like real people on the furniture.

"That's because the last time I saw her, she comforted me when I needed comforting," she told him, her smile fading away at his edged questions. "That was the specific thing, her comforts."

"Alright," he said, holding his hands up to signify surrender. "What have you to say on the rumors that you and Brian Holden are dating?"

Meredith giggled, but it had lost all authenticity. "We're not dating," she said. "Years ago, once, and I doubt that we ever will again."


	2. News

"Meredith?" said Lauren's voice, groggy but surprised, even in her just-awakened state. "Why - why did you call? Are you okay? It's like three in the morning." Her fingers curled around the phone to hold them to her ear, which was covered by her rumpled hair. She blinked numerous times and shook her head while the girl on the other end spoke to her.

"Who called?" mumbled Jaime incoherently, walking slowly and carefully out of her room, trying not to let herself fall back asleep as she walked. She gave up trying and leaned against the living room wall, her eyes closed, listening to the soft phone conversation, barely making anything out.

"Really?" and suddenly Lauren was much more awake. "Are you - you're kidding me!"

"What's going on?" Jaime asked, her voice slurred with her tiredness.

But Lauren ignored her friend and, eyes wide and now non-blinking, listened to the metallic sound of Meredith's voice over the telephone. "This is - wow, I - of course, I'd love to!"

"Love to what?" Jaime inquired, shaking her head as Lauren had and clearing it of some of the fuzz that came with waking up. "What are you going to do?"

"I mean -" she paused as Meredith rattled on. "Me specifically, or just all of us and they liked me?" Another pause, and Jaime rubbed her eyes and began to think fully. "I'm flattered, Mere, I - anyone else?" A shorter break. "Really? So just the four of us?" A somewhat longer intermission and Lauren broke out into a huge smile. "We did watch it," she said. "He didn't seem like a very nice person." She laughed and the other end of the line laughed, too. "Yeah, but you said - so we're going to be - that's - wow! But who's leaving?"

Jaime shuffled her way across the carpet and tapped Lauren on the shoulder, confused. Lauren glanced at her and held up a finger to signal her to wait, and then laughed again. "Come on, if we're going to be on, we deserve to know." Jaime ran her hands through her hair impatiently. "What? That's - Mere," Lauren whined, and then a moment later fixed her tone and smiled cheerfully again. "No, of course not. So, what roles are - you don't _know_?" she asked, incredulous. "But how - did they just - yeah, okay." The petite actress sighed. "So, who will you call next?"

Jaime huffed in irritation.

"Well you might want to wait a few hours, it's still only three fourteen in the morning," said Lauren, glancing at the clock. "Alright, bye, see you soon."

As Lauren pressed the button that ended the call, Jaime pounced. "Was that Meredith? What did she say? What was the whole 'see you soon' thing about, did we make plans? Why were you fl-"

Lauren held her hands up to make her stop, and she fell silent. "That was Meredith," she said. "Apparently, there are four new characters on _Downpour_, and she recommended the whole lot of us for them to choose the actors."

"And - she -" Jaime stuttered, beginning to realize what was going on. "They picked you?"

Lauren gave a shrill, girlish squeal and began jumping up and down so she was almost Jaime's height. "Me and you and Dylan and Brian!" she squeaked.

"Why didn't she call me, then?" Jaime asked.

"I told her to wait a few hours before she called your cell," Lauren said, ceasing to jump and becoming serious. "You looked half-asleep."

"I can't possibly sleep now that I know this!" Jaime exclaimed, placing her hands on Lauren's shoulders and beaming widely, hopping vertically herself. Lauren grinned again and jumped with her, and they both let out childish shrieks of excitement.

"So we're all going to Hollywood?" asked Julia, her face set in the same disbelief as those sitting around her. Brian, Lauren, Dylan and Jaime were standing in front of the television, the focal point, and had just made the announcement. "We're all going to see Mere and you're all going to be on the show?"

"Yeah!" Lauren said, "And we don't know who our characters will be yet and the producers were really impressed with all of us and might consider just making new roles for everyoneandit'sgoingtobeawesometrustmeI'msoexcitedI-"

"Calm down a bit," said Brian, placing his hand on the tiny girl's shoulder, and she took a deep breath between her smiling lips and stopped talking. "Yes," he said to Julia. "We're all going to see Mere and _Downpour_."

Jaime made an odd whimpering sound of anticipation and spun briefly, wringing her hands. "This is going to be so much _fun_!" she crowed.

"Holy shit," said Walker. "This is really happening?"

"Yes, it's fucking happening!" Dylan shouted, thrusting his fist victoriously in the air.

"This is amazing!" said Denise. "When are we going?"

"Next week we'll be getting the official call," said Brian, and even he couldn't suppress the grin that crept onto his mouth. "And then we'll go as soon as possible."

There was a moment of silence as everyone took this in.

And then pandemonium erupted.

People screamed and shouted and hugged and jumped and danced and wailed and celebrated the fact that they were going to be on one of the most popular shows in television history.

Or, at least, that was what Meredith pictured as she stood in her kitchen, looking below at the few paparazzi that always loitered on the sidewalk outside the apartment complex. She smiled wistfully at the thought of her friends jubilating the news and felt like dancing herself; but she didn't want to spill her coffee.


	3. Home

Brian's eyes swept over the airport terminal. A few scattered busybodies here and there, but no Meredith. His suitcases were in his hands, as he'd wanted all his valuables with him when he'd left, because it looked like they were going to be there for a while. His friends were surrounding him, each carrying their own luggage, and every searching the room just as he was. Nobody had spotted their friend (or the hoard of paparazzi he suspected would be following her).

And then Denise screamed shrilly and pointed to the left, to the door marked 'entrance'. Several others looked oddly in their direction, and they looked to where Denise was pointing. Every face lit up, every suitcase was dropped, and when Denise called, "Meredith!" every pair of legs went running towards the girl who was sprinting towards them and being followed by the swarm of expected reporters.

Lauren and Brian were the fastest, but Lauren much faster of the two; she was first to reach Meredith, and she leapt into the air and flung her arms around her neck, hugging her closely. But all Brian saw was Meredith. How very happy she looked! That made _him_ happy.

And then Lauren had torn herself away to let others hug the girl, a feat Brian knew he was incapable of. His feet didn't get enough purchase from the ground under them. Meredith's smile was turning in his direction, and he beamed at her, too, unable to stop himself. Her whiskey-colored eyes were alight with reunion. _So beautiful_, he thought. And then:

His arms locked themselves around her, clutching her close to him, and she clutched him right back. Her hands intertwined themselves on his back as she pulled him in as tightly as she could. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and he relaxed his own head onto hers gently, smelling her wavy, slightly-frizzy, beautiful hair. He felt the flushed skin of her cheek press against his neck, and her touch both electrified the blood that went pulsing throughout his body and soothed the nerves that churned in his stomach. Her smell dissipated the anxiety that had fogged his mind; she both set his heart to racing and his mind at ease. It was always a state of comfortable excitement when he was as close to her as he was. The snaps and flashes of the cameras faded, the entirely-too-loud shouted questions dissipated, and it was just he and her. He was pleased to find out that even after so many months, she still felt familiar in his arms.

He was finally _home_.

Meredith and Jaime had theirs arms around each other friendlily and ignored the persistent reporters that quite literally were up to their elbows, like they wanted to be close but not to touch. Both girls wore the same smile, but on each face it looked different. The group was dancing and giggling and laughing and talking and jumping in excitement and happiness in front of them while they strolled along behind. The cameras snapped photos, the reporters bombarded them with questions that they deigned not to answer.

"We saw the talk show," said Jaime quietly, so as to not be picked up by the microphones, but loud enough to not be drowned out.

Meredith nodded her head the tiniest bit, her smile not slipping. "What was the reaction?"

"We all called him a nosy bastard and said he was delusional," Jaime responded promptly, and then glanced at Meredith somewhat warily. "Brian was rather enthusiastic about the second."

Meredith seemed unphased. "Reasonably so," she said. "It was about him."

Jaime returned to her chipper expression, though still clearly worried. "Alright," she said. "So, have you -?"

"No," Meredith cut across her bluntly, and waved a particularly rude reporter out of their way as he stepped into it. "Still him."

Jaime nodded. "Always him," she agreed, as the maneuvered around the idiotic camera man, who hadn't gotten the clue to move after the reporter had. And then her smile slipped. "You know what role he's playing, don't you?"

"Yes," Meredith answered simply.

"He's your love interest, isn't he?"

Meredith grinned cheekily. "No spoilers," she said (as she had a lot lately), her voice entirely too bright for the conversation they were having; Jaime got the hint. So, she wanted to drop the conversation and move onto something lighter. She could do that.

"We should get to your apartment," said Jaime. "We've just had a long flight and the last week has been chaotic."

Meredith smiled. She knew what their week must have been like. She remembered when she'd done it. When she and the others had gone to L.A. to celebrate the last episode of _Glee_ with Darren, she'd jokingly auditioned for _Downpour_, the new comedy/drama they were casting for in Hollywood, for the part of Rill (Marilla) Bertsman. she'd expected nothing of it. So when she got the call asking if she'd like the part, she'd been sensibly shocked. Naturally, she'd accepted. She knew what her friends had gone through their last week; packing, re-packing, and packing again; checking and re-checking; buying and selling. Her own days had been hectic. But she hadn't had her friends to help her, she'd been alone. Darren had helped her get an apartment, and then he was off to Broadway again. She'd been alone and lonely.

Well, with the exception of her second month in, but that was off-topic and she wouldn't think about _that_ now.

She'd never expected to fit in so well with the writers, let alone the cast, and she'd certainly never expected to be bumped up to co-writer position just her seventh month in. Good things had swelled up for her at an alarming rate, and even when things slowed down the good still increased. She was happy now. Sure, things got a bit difficult sometimes, but she was living a good life. And now she had her friends with her. Hugging them all had felt wonderful since she hadn't done it in four months.

She gazed fondly at the bunch of weirdos in front of her, and saw Brian try to kick the air and land flat on his ass. She and everyone else laughed at the embarrassed and bewildered look on his face.

She was finally _home_.


	4. New

"Meredith, which of your friends are these?"

"Miss Stepien, who's playing what role?"

"Meredith, who's leaving the show?"

"Miss Stepien, Miss Stepien! Will you tell us what the new roles are?"

Meredith pushed Jaime and Lauren ahead of her, as they seemed unable to move for themselves. They stared at the huge swarm of paparazzi, all flashing pictures and recording and shouting questions, shoving microphones and cameras and papers in their faces. Meredith walked them past people and forced the reporters to make room for them as they shoved through. She kept her smile on her face the whole time. When they'd reached the door through the throng, she pressed the intercom. "Hello?" buzzed a familiar voice.

"It's Meredith," she said. "With Jaime and Lauren. Can you let us in?"

The doors swung open not a moment later, and she ushered her friends in. The press had had enough footage of the lobby. "Hey Albert," she greeted when the doors had shut. The man in his uniform sitting behind the large desk with the crinkly-eyed smile returned the greeting.

"Meredith," he said, smiling his constant grin. "And Jaime and Lauren, hello!" They greeted him in return.

When in the elevator and having pressed the button, Jaime remarked, "He seemed friendly."

"He always is," she said, feeling her stomach drop to her feet as the elevator started. "We're all his family, because he doesn't have any blood family left."

"What happened to his family?" asked Lauren.

"His wife and son died in a car accident when she was driving him to college," she told them quietly. "Quite tragic. He was in the hospital, recovering from a stroke. That's why he wasn't with them."

"That's awful," Jaime breathed.

Meredith nodded her agreement. "But he smiles through it, like you're supposed to." She caught Jaime's eyes, and her nod was so small Lauren didn't catch it.

Meredith felt her stomach jump back into its lining as the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open to reveal her neighbor and his Labrador puppy. "Bill, how are you?" she asked. "and Sally, of course?" she said, bending down to pet the dog briefly.

"We're fine," he said, smiling widely. "Becca's coming over later and we're going to watch _Peneviere_."

"I'm flattered," she said, blushing as she always did when he mentioned the movie she'd been in. "Tell her hi for me, would you?"

"I always do," he said pleasantly. "We better get outside, Sally needs a walk." He caught sight of the other girls. "Jaime, Lauren, nice to see you again."

They said hello to Bill, and then she guided her friends out and Bill and Sally stepped in. She led her friends down the hall.

"He seems nice," said Lauren. "He always does, when we come here."

"He is nice," Meredith agreed. "Everyone is. I've been here two and a half years, and nobody that lives in this building has been mean to me, ever."

She stopped outside her door and turned the key in the lock. Before she opened the door, she told her friends seriously, "You have to battle out who gets the white bedroom and who gets the green one." Then she opened the door and stepped out of the way as they raced each other to the green bedroom, shouting why they should have it and the other shouldn't.

Brian stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above him, his arms nestled into the unfamiliar blankets. Everything about this place was unfamiliar, alien. He knew he'd get used to it, but it had the feel of a hotel suite. Cold and untouched and like it wouldn't be permanent. The apartment felt totally empty, though he knew Dylan was just across the hall, and sleeping, judging from the wisps of snores he heard float underneath their doors to his ears.

He rolled over. He would not give up another night to anxiety-riddled insomnia. but his stomach was in uneasy knots and his fingers kept clenching and releasing the blanket on top of him. It was warmer than it had been when he'd gotten into the bed, but it was still cold. He tossed onto the other side. The walls were just as bad to stare at as the ceiling.

He gave up. Tossing the covers off of him, he felt the sting of cold, slightly-coarse carpet as it touched his bare feet. He looked downward pointedly, shuffling quietly to the glass doors that led onto the patio/balcony. He was glad he was the faster runner out of he and Dylan and had gotten to the room that led to the patio before him, and therefore had claimed it as his own. The patio didn't just stop when their apartment stopped, however. It went on and on and wrapped around the building, so every apartment on the sixth floor shared a patio. It went around the corners, even. The hotel was L-shaped, so he could see the first sharp turn of the balcony. He slid open the door and when it didn't creak, he stepped outside and slid it closed.

The night air was slightly chilly, and he hugged his pajamas to him. The concrete of the patio was much colder against his feet than his carpeted bedroom had been. He heard honks and horns, and voices from below. He saw city lights and signs and… well, he saw Hollywood.

And, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blackened figure leaning against the wall outside glass doors just like his, but being careful not to lean over the edge in the slightest bit and be photographed by the few loitering paparazzi on the street below. Meredith, he was sure of it, from the almost-tight nightgown to the hair that was being lifted slightly in the night breeze. He'd recognize her silhouette in a room full of shadows.

He began walking to her, without much conscious choice, really. As he drew closer, she became more defined; her face was a mixture of thoughtfulness, regret, and hope. He wondered what on earth could have splayed those particular emotions on that perfect face of hers. "Meredith?" he called quietly to her, counting on the wind that was blowing in her direction to carry his voice. It must have, because a few moments later she looked up from her fixed point on the ledge, and her, instead, fixed on him. All previous emotions disappeared and she just smiled her wide smile.

"Brian," she said. "Can't sleep?"

"Nope," he replied honestly. "Not at all. the apartment is strange."

"Strange good or strange bad?" she patted the wall next to her in a motion to get him to lean there. He did, and the sharp, frigid points of the bricks dug into his skin a bit, but he was fairly comfortable.

"Strange good," he answered. "It's a nice apartment, not flashy at all but not homely. But it's foreign. Strange."

"I understand," she said sympathetically, and he had no doubt she did. "My first couple weeks here were torture. Couldn't sleep, felt like a visitor in my own home. It got so bad - well, you know." She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"That you needed a friend?" he said quietly, almost wishing the wind wouldn't carry his voice this time.

She nodded. "But you guys won't have that problem," she said brightly. "You've got me, and each other, and the rest of the gang until they're done visiting, and the cast will love you, I'm sure."

"Did they love you at first?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"No," she said, sighing. "They warmed up to me quickly, though. I was just so nervous I couldn't see that they still weren't hesitant. Of course, Jim was always nice."

"Jim Parsons is one of the most pleasant people you can meet," said Brian, "According to Whil Wheaton."

"And to me, and everyone else who's every met him," she agreed.

"When will we get to meet him?" he inquired. "And Gina Dailie, and the others?"

"You _would_ be interested in Gina," she teased lightheartedly. "You'll get to meet them next week, when we start shooting again."

The truth was, Brian wasn't really interested in Gina at all, she was just the first cast member name that had popped into his head. How could he be, when Meredith Stepien, his long-time friend and co-worker, one of the most kind and beautiful women to ever exist, was standing right next to him?

That kind and beautiful woman then yawned hugely, and shook her head to clear it of the sleepiness fuzz. "You're sleepy?" he asked her. "Thought you couldn't sleep."

She shook her head. "Talking to you helps me relax. I mean, you bore me to sleep."

He smirked in appreciation of her joke, and then gestured to the city in front of them. "It's beautiful."

She shrugged. "You get used to it."

"That doesn't mean it gets any less beautiful," he whispered. "Or that you should begin taking it for granted."

And their eyes met. Hers were golden-brown, tawny and warm, insightful and still confused. Like pools of copper, they glinted with the light from the stars above them. But they were like copper behind a foggy window - not diluted, just a bit smoky, mysterious. As stunning as the last time he'd looked into them like this. _She_ was stunning.

"Good night, Brian."

And then she'd practically hurtled herself through the opening created by the door she'd yanked open, and Brian was left with just the chilled night air for his company as it nearly slammed shut.


	5. War

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Lauren sang as she bounced on Meredith's bed excitedly. "We're going shopping!"

Meredith opened one groggy eye at her bubbling and completely awake friend and then looked sleepily at her alarm clock. "It's only eight," she accused lightly, turning over and closing her eyes again, snuggling deeper within the warm blankets and nesting her head into her soft pillow.

"Your point?" Lauren demanded, her voice far too chipper for so early in the morning. "Nobody else but Jaime and I are up yet, so we'll go on a little friendly shopping spree!"

"Laur_en_," Meredith groaned exaggeratedly, rolling back over and squinting at the girl that was still bouncing on her bed, much too excited.

Lauren frowned, but then smiled again, seemingly incapable of keeping the grin off her face. "Alright, I'll make you a deal," she said, her voice holding a bargain. "If you get up -"

"I dislike this already," she muttered, closing her eyes once more.

"- then _you_ can shake the boys awake and make them get up, and then we'll _all_ go shopping."

Meredith considered it for a moment. As much as she disliked being woken up in such a happy manner - she detested mornings, they really were over-rated and over-used - she loved to torture her friends by waking them up like that. And the same went for every one of them, save Jaime, Julia and Moses, who always rose early and only woke up their friends if need be - and they'd only ever do it gently and politely. "Fine," she mumbled.

"Great!" Lauren exclaimed, and then suddenly Meredith was cold as her blanket was ripped off of her and discarded to the side. "Hurry up!" she gushed at her, "Or they might wake up on their own!"

Meredith had cried out groggily at the loss of her warm snuggles, but she had to admit it was easier to get up without them. The cold was a bit humid, and not really cold, just not quite as warm as she'd been under her cover. Lauren had bounded out of the room anxiously, and Meredith grumbled words that were incoherent even to her as she slipped out of her pajamas and dressed herself. She didn't really feel like dressing up, and so she slid into jeans and an old t-shirt, and, because she wanted more warm snuggles, she put on her old sweatshirt, too. She put on socks and then remembered her shoes were by the door; she shrugged and walked out of her room, looking wistfully at the unmade and still warmed bed.

"Morning," Jaime greeted her softly, smiling warmly, as she did in the mornings. She wasn't going to pressure her into really waking up, unlike Lauren. "Lauren wake you up?"

"Who else would?" she replied.

Jaime grinned. "Sorry," she said. "I'd have done it, but I didn't know what she had in mind."

"It's fine," Meredith said, "I'm probably just lucky she decided not to use a foghorn and only herself."

"She is a foghorn," Jaime smirked, shaking her head.

Meredith giggled. "That she is," she agreed. "I'm guessing you escaped her wrath?"

"I always do," she said, and then her merry face grew somber. "I heard you come in last night."

"Oh."

Meredith was entirely awake now - she was looking at Jaime with a mix of confusion, realization, defense and submission. "I couldn't sleep, so I went outside," she explained. "He had the same idea."

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. "So… nothing happened?"

_His eyes - god, how to describe his eyes! Magnificent swirling pools of piercing blue; vibrant blue; sharpened sky-blue. They were wide with some realization she didn't share, alive with a wonder she couldn't behold. The way his eyes seemed to be staring at hers, not in hers, like she was something to appreciate but not totally worship, was lovely; her heart melted and created a pulsing lagoon, in which she'd had swam all day. And she wondered if he noticed how close he was getting. His shoulder was almost touching hers, as it was, and his head had been near hers to begin with. But she could feel the cold, sweet scent of his breath washing over her face in gentle breezes, trickling and caressing her cheeks and nose like snowflakes. His nose was about to brush hers, and his mesmerizing eyes grew even more enticing the closer they got -_

_No, no! Not again!_

_"Good night, Brian," she said quickly, and darted inside as fast as she could, trying not to slam into the glass she only just managed to fling open in time._

_Her heart was not a lagoon any more - it was a full-blown ocean, the pulsing having spread through her entire body, wracking her into nervous shivers, making her throb. It was the most pleasant pain she'd ever experienced - but, then, she knew how to handle it. Time, patience, and _Oh my god, I'm an idiot for suggesting him to the others_, she thought bitterly, shaking her head at herself in anger. _Why did I think being in close proximity to him was a good idea?

To give him the break and recognition he deserves_, she argued with herself, and then her own palm reached up and her cheek stung from the harsh slap she'd both given and received._

"Nothing," she answered. "Now, we'd better get ready."

Meredith and Lauren smirked at each other heavily, and both turned to the boys they were to wake up. Meredith had, of course, guessed correctly that Brian hadn't locked the door when he'd gone in from outside. Lauren, across the hall, looked through two doorways to her friend, who was positioned over Brian like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. They locked eyes once more, and their childish grins couldn't help spreading. Jaime rolled her eyes at her friends, but smiled fondly.

"_On three_," Lauren mouthed. "_One - two - three_!"

Meredith's hands immediately went to Brian's back, and she began to tickle him, her fingers moving in the pattern she knew both irked and amused him.

He shouted at the same time Dylan did, and arched his back. Meredith laughed at the expression on his face, it was priceless; wide-eyed, confused, and at the same time, happy to see her. The last expression touched her to her very core; but she laughed at the other two, and it dimmed the novelty of it, somewhat. "Good morning," she greeted cheerily through his exclamations for her to cease.

"Stop, stop!" he said, and the laughter he'd held it suddenly burst like a bubble, and he curled in on himself, heaving huge guffaws. She laughed with him, but as his back was vulnerable in his cat-sleeping position, he arched it again and shouted a laughed-out command she didn't understand - and then his fist had grabbed a pillow and hurled it at her.

She shrieked ducked, but it hit her in the head - apparently he'd been aiming for her stomach. But she only chuckled loudly an clutched it, whacking him upside the head with it playfully. "Rise and shine!" she heard Lauren shout to Dylan, who wasn't as playful as Brian this morning. "We're going shopping, all of us!"

Brian heard her, and groaned - and then grabbed the pillow from her hand and swung it wildly. It hit her stomach, and she, unprepared, fell backward with a shouted laugh, landing squarely on her butt. "Hey!" she protested, as he hit her again. "At least let me defend myself!"

And so, as the pillow was tossed to her, the fight began: War had been declared.


	6. Beautiful

"So how are we getting to the mall?" Lauren asked, hopping and turning to face them so they were facing backward. "Who's driving who?"

"Well, I don't think the paparazzi will like being woken up too much," she said, nodding to the snoozing people on the sidewalk that they saw through the lobby's windows. "So not the limo. But we only have my car otherwise, because the others took the van to their hotel, and my car only seats four. One of us would be strapped to the roof, or something."

Lauren giggled. "I'll be on the roof!" she volunteered.

"I want to ride in the limo," Dylan complained,rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "It's more comfortable."

"You'll fall asleep on the way!" Jaime said jokingly, shoving his shoulder.

"_I_ want the roof," Brian challenged Lauren.

"I'll stay here, and then there's no problem," Dylan said, yawning widely.

"No," Meredith chuckled. "We're all shopping."

"For what, exactly?" Brian wondered aloud.

Jaime shrugged. "Stuff."

"Cool stuff!" Lauren added.

"How vague," Dylan muttered.

"You can stay if you're just going to be an asshole," Lauren snapped at Dylan, her smile staying firmly in place but becoming plaster.

"Great. I'll be upstairs."

"Hey, don't just -" Jaime called after him.

"Dude, don't leave me with the girls!" Brian wailed, and then he put the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock swoon. "No! Their company is the company of the deuce!"

"Hey!" Lauren scolded playfully, her smile becoming genuine again.

Meredith looked upon the scene with a smug satisfaction and a nagging doubt. She had no qualms with Dylan staying here and sleeping some more - she'd planned on doing that herself - and seeing her friends interact with each other was wonderful after four months of not seeing them face-to-face. She smiled at the lot of them as they teased and kidded. But her eyes locked on Brian's fake-sad face. He was so carefree, so easy-going, so laid-back. Why on earth had she suggested him to the other writers? Yes, he deserved all fame he could get, he was amazing. But… on the show with _her_? How could she bear being in such close proximity with him again? It had been bad enough before _Downpour_, and now she was just increasing her sufferings. And what if he started dating someone again, like last time? What if he dated Lauren or Jaime? No, not Jaime, Jaime liked Joey, and knew how she felt about Brian. And Lauren… well, she was no Ali Gordon. When Ali and Brian had begun dating shortly after MAMD, Meredith had forced a permanent smile on her face. and when they ended it shortly before HMB, she'd fought to keep from both comforting them and squealing with glee. Every time she was around him, she hurt herself. But she couldn't stop, because it only hurt afterward, and during it was just him… just _him_.

_I'm a masochist_, she decided. And then she shook her head clear of thought the exact moment that Brian looked over at her.

Not seeing him trying to grab her eye contact, she smiled at her female friends, who were in the middle of ducking at each other's playful slaps. "Shall we be going?"

"SHOTGUN!" Brian yelped loudly, leaping ahead several steps and breaking out into a sprint, leaving the hotel loudly. the paparazzi woke, of course, and upon seeing the door open tried to bustle through it.

"Quick, go go go!" Meredith shouted, and she, Lauren and Jaime bolted after him.

"No, no! I love this song!" Meredith cried as Brian's hand reached out toward the radio dial in reaction to the song 'Fragile Toys'. "Don't - no, what are you doing!" She took her hand off the wheel and slapped his away. "I love this song!"

"It's so sad," Lauren complained from the back, breaking the conversation she'd been having with Jaime.

"Yes, and great," Meredith argued.

"The lyrics make no sense," Brian tried, having actually never hear the song before. He'd only wanted to get away from the sad song.

"Yes, they do!" Meredith retorted. "Just listen."

_I remember the scared look on your face / I remember your hand in mine / I remember running from that place / I remember running out of time._

Meredith smiled a sad smile at the song that hadn't been on the radio often enough for its magnificence.

"I don't get it," Brian said stubbornly.

Meredith shook her head. "Just keep listening."

_Come back to reality, set down those figurines / of everyone that you hold dear. / You can't live in memories; / when you come back to me / I'll be waiting for you right here._

"What?" he demanded inquisitively of the radio.

_You can't pretend you're still just a scared little boy / so please don't break all these fragile toys._

"Do you really not get it?" Meredith exclaimed at the puzzled look on his face.

"No…"

"It's about war," she said, hoping to prompt an understanding.

He shook his head. "It sounds like a break-up song."

Meredith gritted her teeth. "Keep listening."

"I'm not -"

"Keep. Listening."

He sighed, but submitted. However, they'd missed the next verse, and it was back to the bridge. "What's so special about it?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Meredith turned the radio off in irritation. "You missed the verses," she accused him, "So you wouldn't understand."

"Sing it for me, then," he challenged.

"No, I can't do it justice," she said, shaking her head.

"Dude!" Lauren exclaimed. "Your voice is prettier than the person who sings it! Just do it!"

"No!"

"Please?" Jaime put in. "I don't get it either."

"Fine!" Meredith snapped, and took a deep breath. "Listen well."

"_A bird of flame flies through the air, / a child's cry rings out. / The sound of pain is everywhere. / The world is burning down._  
_I remember the scared look on your face / I remember your hand in mine. / I remember running from that place / I remember running out of time._  
_Come back to reality, set down those figurines / of everyone that you hold dear. / You can't live in memories; when you come back to me / I'll be waiting for you right here. / You can't pretend you're still just a scared little boy / so please don't break all these fragile toys._"

Brian was staring at her with the face of a statue, blank and yet still full of emotion. Lauren and Jaime, she only caught glimpses of in her mirror, and both seemed to be calculating something.

"_A warrior's sword lies on the ground, / his armor's fallen off. / He needs more than words to bring him 'round / to the point where the nightmares stop!_  
_He remembers that scared look on my face, / he remembers his hand in mine. / He remembers running from that place, / he remembers running out of time._  
_Come back to reality, set down those figurines / of everyone that you hold dear. / You can't live in memories; when you come back to me / I'll be waiting for you right here. / You can't pretend you're still just a scared little boy / so please don't break all these fragile toys._"

"_This is one of those times / when you're evaded by your tears, / when you just cry anymore! / This is one of those times / when you're trapped inside your fears, / and you don't know / what you're fighting for! / Fighting… for…_"

"_Come back to reality, set down those figurines / of everyone that you hold dear. / You can't live in memories; when you come back to me / I'll be waiting for you right here. / You can't pretend you're still just a scared little boy / so please don't break all these fragile toys."_

"_Fragile_…_ toys…_"

Meredith waited for them to say something.

And waited.

She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead of her. "Do you get it now?" she finally asked, avoiding eye contact for fear of seeing their expressions.

"No," Brian said quietly.

"Explain, please," said Jaime, even more quietly.

"Okay, um…" she took another deep breath. "Imagine you're a soldier in a war and you're on the battlefield. Imagine that all of a sudden, the enemy retreats, and ends the battle - but you know they won't surrender and they're stronger and better than you and that they'll come back. and you hear people screaming and crying in the aftermath, but… but you mostly hear silence from the people that can't scream or cry anymore." She inhaled deeply and kept looking forward at the heated street. They were nearly there. "You feel the calm before the storm, and you know, in the next battle, there's a 90% chance of you losing either your life, the war, or both. And you know you're going to fight anyway, because of the peace that's going to follow. Because you don't want anyone else to feel like that, so pressured, so free and yet confined. So you're going to fight. That feeling, that scene, is the first verse.

"Now imagine that you've won the last battle of the war, and you're alive, but almost everyone you've ever known, loved or cared about is… is g-gone." She closed her eyes briefly, and then took the next right. "And, years later, you're sitting at home, in a closet or a dark bedroom or somewhere dim and secluded. And you're supposed to deal with the peace, but, the truth is, you can't. The torture of war was, at least, something to drive you forward, and now there's nothing pushing you to keep on going. That's the toughest fight yet - not fighting. That's the second verse.

"And so, you have little china statuettes of people, little toys, breakable porcelain figurines. And you reenact scenes, battles, with them. And everyone who died gets their figurine thrown to the floor and smashed into millions of little pieces, into powder as you take your foot and grind them into the floor. And then, when you have nothing left to reenact, you just throw your own figurine to the floor, but it refuses to break, to shatter, for some reason. You can't leave anymore, because you're constantly living in memories. Not just always looking back to them, you live in them. You're incapable of living now because you're busy re-living at a time that you actually knew how to deal with. That's the chorus."

There was silence.

Her hands were growing sweaty. Why was she so nervous? All she'd done was explain a sad song. But her eyes were as wet and warm as her palms. She repositioned her left hand on the wheel to a cooler, non-sticky place, and put her right on the little CD cubby that was in the middle of her seat and Brian's, only to discover that his arm was already there. she looked down quickly, and saw that hers was resting on the other side of his, both of their fingers curled.

She watched through the silence as he moved his fingers in between hers and grabbed her hand softly.

Though every single part of her screamed of joy at his touch, from the butterflies in her stomach to the calmed tempest that raged through her veins, her mind warned her that too much contact would be hurtful, dangerous to her, even. But she completely ignored and squeezed him comforting, warm, familiar hand tightly, and smiled gently at his matching squeeze back.

"That's beautiful, Mere," Jaime said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, she is," Brian murmured tenderly.

* * *

**Hi! Sorry, author here. If you're rather involved in the story and don't want to read this, feel free to ignore it! But you can here the actual song at watch?v=tqie_clhwVE . If you're good as it is, keep going! I find it's great background music when reading the next chapter, though!**


	7. Games

"So what have you guys been up to, other than missing me?" Meredith asked her friends as they sat in the mall food court, munching on a large pizza.

"Well, we'd been having ideas for new musicals," Jaime said. "The one we were thinking about most was a Starship Sequel."

"Really?" Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Who'd play Megagirl?"

"That was pretty much why we didn't do it," Lauren admitted. "We didn't want to delay a season on _Downpour_."

Meredith snickered and made a motion like she was waving the topic off. "It wouldn't delay the season," she chortled.

"You're the main character and co-writer of the show," Brian pointed out. "There very well might have been a delay."

"They could manage without me for a few… eh," Meredith blanched as she realized they were right. "Okay, fine. That's great. So that's not happening. Anything else?"

"Not really," Brian said. "Calling and texting you and Darren, that's pretty much what we've been doing."

"Aw, you're lost without me," she crooned sarcastically, tearing another large bite from her pizza.

"And Darren!" Jaime added, making her voice childishly high.

"I'm bored," Lauren complained, glancing at the several shopping bags they had stacked next to their table.

"Let's play a game," Brian said, rubbing his hands evilly. "I know! What about 'Guessit'?"

"Yes!" Meredith squealed, dropping her pizza and clapping her hands loudly. "It's been forever since I've played 'Guessit'!"

"Us too, really," said Jaime. "Who's going first?"

"Me!" Lauren shouted, earning them some odd looks from those around them that soon turned into awe as they realized who was sitting at there. "Okay, okay, um…" she thought for a moment. "Got it! It's alive."

"A bird?" Brian jumped on it immediately. Lauren shook her head smugly.

"A fish?" Jaime guessed. Lauren shook her head again.

"A person," Meredith said.

Lauren grinned. "He's an actor."

"Jim Parsons!" Brian shouted.

"Leonardo DiCaprio!" Jaime shouted over him.

"Brad Pitt!" Meredith tried.

"He's handsome," Lauren tried, giving another hint.

"Brad Pitt!" Jaime seconded Meredith's last guess, even though she knew it was wrong.

Brian shrugged. "Erm… Kunal Nayyar?"

"Brian!" Meredith blurted without thinking.

All eyes turned to her.

She could see the questions in Lauren's eyes spinning around, the confusion placed firmly in Brian's, and the wheels turning in Jaime's head as to saving the situation. "Well, if we're going with friends," she said desperately, training the eyes on her, "Joey!"

"Darren," Brian said, playing along though still obviously uncomfortable.

"Dylan," Meredith added, keeping the shaking from her voice with the skills of an actress.

"Walker!" Jaime said, smiling at how her idea had been accepted.

"Moses," Brian said, nodding as if he' put extensive thought into it.

"A.J.," Jaime said.

"It's not one of our friends," Lauren said, shaking her head.

"Damn," Jaime sighed, and they all fell silent, thinking. "Sami Reese after the operation?"

And as they all dissolved into a fit of giggles (and fake laughter for Meredith and Brian), the group of people they'd startled before the game gathered the courage to approach and ask for autographs.

_Where are you guys_? said her phone's screen as she read the text from Denise. _You're not at the apartment_!

_We'll be there soon_, she texted back. _We went shopping but Dylan' there_.

And they were, in all honesty, on their way back to their apartments. Except she was in the passenger seat and Brian was the designated driver. Lauren and Jaime had switched seats, too. The radio was playing softly for a background to the quiet. It was playing some extremely offensive rap song that she guessed was probably from Chris Brown.

Brian apparently decided what she had, and his hand turned the knob a notch to switch the station - and then they all froze as they heard:

_A bird of flame flies through the air, / a child's cry rings out._

There was a silence that seemed very thin. There are silences that are so loud they push on your ears and make you hear a high note about an octave above middle C in place of the words you know the other person should say but won't - and then there are thin silences because you know something you want to fill up the air is going to. This was the second kind of silence - empty, respectful, hollow, with just the right ring of familiarity and appreciation. There was a new-found love for the song they'd accidentally switched on among them, and they listened with rapt attention as the voice of an angel sang one of the saddest stories ever known to man.

"I don't think I'm going to make it through without crying," Lauren said, her voice thicker than the silence she'd just broken. She sniffed as quietly as she could, and wiped her eyes with her wrist.

"It's a lot sadder when you understand it," Jaime agreed with her in a whisper, wiping her own teary eyes.

Meredith, who was used to hearing the song while understanding it, let her friends cry; she had the first time she really got the song.

"You sing it better," said a whisper in her ear.

Brian whispered the true compliment into her ear and couldn't help smiling when she turned to him in surprise. "Me?" she whispered back, her voice low so as to still hear the song but convey her message all the same. He smiled at her shocked face. "But she sounds like an angel."

Brian smirked, but it was friendly and true. "Angels fall silent when you're present in respect."

The blush he loved crept up into her cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You're being ridiculous," he said, shaking his head at her. "Why can't you believe it?"

"Because you're not falling silent."

Brian certainly hadn't been expecting _that_. He was completely distracted, turning to look her square in the eyes, the shocked look on his face mirroring hers. She looked as if she couldn't believe her own words. "I'm an angel?" he asked her quietly.

"You are," she responded hesitantly, and it was then that he realized he was very close to her. So close, in fact, that her breath was once more cleansing his skin and her eyes were once more drawing him further towards her -

"BRIAN LOOK OUT!"

Brian jerked his head away from his goddess at the terrified shriek just in time to hear a loud, warning honk, and see the front of a semi truck bearing down upon them because they'd drifted into the wrong lane. Without thinking any further, the only thought in his mind to keep the woman in the passenger seat who was hiding her face behind her hands safe, he jerked the steering wheel further to the left, knowing it was the only way he was going to get away.

Lauren screamed in fear and clutched Jaime, who was staring ahead of her like a deer into headlights. Meredith was still hiding herself behind her hands, her now-drained-of-color cheeks barely visible. But the car swiveled to the side, and he thought, for a moment, that he might be able to not hit the stores on the sides of the road or the semi coming towards him. But then, his moment of hope was destroyed as he felt a jolt and heard Meredith wail, leaping as far from her side as she could and clinging to his arm, and slammed his foot on the brake, trying to stop the spinning of the car that had started.

And then there was another terrible crunching sound, another horrible screech from one of the girls, and Brian was hit forcefully by the airbag and everything went black.


	8. Admit

"Are they in - oh, there - _Brian_!"

"He's alright," said the doctor, who was standing with a clipboard beside the bed of their male friend, who was lying, unconscious, on a hospital cot, large bruise forming grotesquely on his nose. But Julia, who'd exclaimed, had gone as pale as a sheet and frozen in her tracks, and as the other Starkids filed around her, they either saw the girls, who were sitting up, wide awake and with grim expressions, and sighed with relief, or they saw Brian, who seemed the worst of them all and who looked to be in a dangerous sleep. "His airbag snagged on the mirror before it hit him, and it ripped a hole in it before impact, so nothing's broken."

Julia's face regained a bit of color. "He'll be alright?"

"He already is," the doctor assured her. "Sleeping comfortably."

"His nose looks awful," remarked Walker, his voice quieter than usual, as if he was afraid of waking up his friend.

"It's bruised," the doctor said, "But not too badly. It should heal completely in about a week."

"And the girls?" Denise asked, looking over to her friends. Lauren and Jaime looked both exhausted and irritated, and Meredith, oddly, was glaring at the arms she had crossed over her chest angrily.

"We're all fine," Jaime said, glancing at Lauren.

"How did you not get hit by the airbag, weren't you in the passenger seat?" Joey demanded of Meredith, who flushed bright red and turned away. "What's with you?"

"She pretty much flung herself onto Brian when she got scared," Lauren said, her voice holding a small amount of bitterness, "And neither airbag hit her. Of course, neither would've tried if they hadn't been flirting so intensely he went into the wrong lane!"

"We were not _flirting_!" Meredith burst, turned her glare from her arms to Lauren, who, unaccustomed to such behavior from her friend, jumped a bit in her bed. "We were talking about the song and he got distracted!"

"You called him an angel," Jaime said cautiously, as though bringing it up might somehow affect her.

"I said the girl who sang the song had the voice of an angel!" Meredith nearly screamed, and everyone in the room put their shocked and somewhat scared eyes on Meredith. "We were talking about the song!" she insisted furiously, and then, all of a sudden, all fire in her voice and eyes disappeared, and she whispered, "_I_ was talking…"

"What was that?" Denise murmured to Walker, whose hand she was holding tightly, still eyeing Meredith warily.

"I have no idea," he whispered back.

"You were flirting!" Lauren flung at Meredith, seeming to regain her composure from being yelled at and yelling back. "And we almost died because of it!"

"Lay off, Lauren," Jaime whispered. Meredith closed her eyes against the hot, salty water that was threatening to spill over her eyelids and wet her cheeks.

"You're defending her?" Lauren accused shrilly.

"Ladies, let's calm down," the doctor said sternly, and Meredith shut her eyes even tighter as a dam against the tears, turning her head towards the floor and away from her friends. "You're all alive and well and you three can leave, you're all fine. The car suffered minimal damage and so has your friend, who, when he wakes up, can leave too."

"When will he wake up?" Moses dared speak through the tension in the air. It was so thick you'd have needed a meat cleaver to make a dent in it.

"Whenever he's slept enough." The doctor had no real answer. "Girls, are you going with your friends?"

"I am," Lauren announced, and Meredith heard her tiny feet hit the floor.

There was a split second in which Jaime made a decision. "Me too," she said, her voice still low and cautious.

"Meredith?" asked Julia gently, and though she meant nothing but to soothe, it felt like she was poking fun at her. "You coming?"

Meredith did not speak, but shook her head once, too indulged in her own mental battle to speak aloud.

_You should have told him to keep his eyes on the road!_  
_It wasn't my fault, he was practically calling me a goddess._  
_You didn't have to respond!_  
_Yes, I did!_  
_Why?_  
_Because he deserves a compliment more than I do!_  
_That makes no sense! You almost killed both him and you!_  
_Love never makes sense!_  
_I told you that being so close to him would wind up with both of you hurt!_  
_I'm sorry, I'm… I'm sorry._  
_Sorry's not gonna make him wake up, is it? No, it's not! And he's only asleep because YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM!_  
_It was the other driver's fault!_

Meredith hadn't noticed that the room had cleared itself but for her, Brian and Joey, who was still standing there awkwardly, watching as she beat herself up internally, mercilessly, and the tears that coated her face now fell to the floor with indistinct little plops.

"Um… Mere?"

"IT'S MY FAULT!"

Joey jumped back as she screamed the words at herself, curling up into a fetal position and sobbing loudly. Her chest made tearing sounds with each individual choke, and her shoulders shook heavily. He could only imagine was must have caused the pain that lurked behind her eyes. "M-Mere? What are you talking about?"

"He almost died because of me, it's all my fault, he could be dead, maybe he is, he's not waking up, it's my fault, oh God…"

"He's… he's… Brian's fine, Mere," Joey said, stammering out the best consolation he could find. "Why do you think it's your fault?"

"I distracted him!" she croaked.

"With… eh, how?" Joey asked timidly, taking a step towards his emotionally-unstable friend.

"We… we were listening to the song, and he… he said I s-sang it b-better…"

"I don't… I don't understand," he said, deciding it was safe to go near her and taking a few more steps.

Meredith didn't appear to hear him. "And… and I s-said that she sang it with the voice of an angel, and he said that I'm better than an angel, and that th-the angels sh-shut up in respect…"

Joey, completely and utterly confused, sat down on her bed, accompanied by the sound of her sheets wrinkling. "What?"

"And I said that wasn't true b-because he w-wasn't shutting up, and then he… he just leaned in r-really close and th-then… then the truck came!" And she was weeping again, her head face-down in her arms, hidden behind her knees.

"So, what…" he tried to make sense of it. "So, earlier, you sang a song for him, and you sang it really well. And then you heard that song on the radio, and he says you sang it better, to which you say that he's wrong because the singer has a voice of an angel. Then Brian says you're better than an angel and they shut up in your presence, and you say that's wrong because he's not shutting up, which is calling him an angel. Am I right so far?"

Meredith said something along the lines of "Yes", but it sounded more like "Neb". Nonetheless, he continued.

"And then the truck came and…" he thought back to what Lauren had said. "And you saw it coming, and got scared, and grabbed onto Brian, and the airbag hit him but yours missed you and his did, too, and then he passed out?"

"Ye…" her voice broke off suddenly and she gulped, trying to reclaim it. "Yeah."

Joey thought for a long time. So she was calling him an angel, she was blaming herself for his lack of judgement during driving, and it sounded like she had been just as distracted as he had been. "Meredith?"

"W-what?"

"Do you like Brian?"

"Y-yes."

"No, I mean, like-like."

"No."

"Oh."

"I love him."

"WHAT?!"

Joey leapt to his feet and stared at Meredith, who was looking up like a puppy who'd already been punished for a crime she didn't commit. "I love him," she repeated, wiping her nose solemnly with her sleeve and sniffing loudly. "I have for years." Her sudden calmness contrasted greatly with his outbreak of disbelief.

"But…" Joey's mind was awhirl. "But what about Ali? When he was dating Ali? Did you love him then?"

"Yes," she answered seriously.

"But… but you loved him and she stole him, why didn't you go after him?"

"She didn't _steal_ him, it's not like I ever had him," Meredith said, shaking her head pityingly at his failure to understand. "She made him happy in a way I never could, and seeing him happy made me happy."

"So seeing him hug her, or kiss her, or laugh with her - it didn't hurt?" he demanded, irritated at how he couldn't comprehend.

The air drained of sound as his face drained of color at the murderous scowl on her face. "You think it didn't hurt?" she mouthed, and he didn't need the words spoken to understand them. He flinched at the malice in her voice. "You think that every time he put his lips to hers instead of mine, it didn't rip my heart out? You think every time he held her instead of me, it didn't twist my lungs until I couldn't breathe? You think every time he said the words to her that I wanted to say to him, it didn't stick a spear through me and pin me to a wall of knives?"

"That's a bit morbid for you," Joey said, his voice barely comprehensible even to him. She appeared not to hear him at all.

"You're wrong. It hurt like fucking hell." Her stare lost some of its malevolence and gained a look of wistful sorrow he'd only ever read about in books. "But I didn't have the words he needed to hear or that arms that he needed to hold him, and she did. And she made him happy, she made him glad. The first part of loving someone isn't wanting them to be yours and only yours - that's the second part. The first part is wanting them to be happy. To feel like they're worth feeling happy. To just be joyful all the time, and if you can't do it for them, finding them someone that can should make you proud of them. Ali was a nice girl who deserved someone like Brian, and though I maintain he deserves someone better than any God could create, he was glad when he was with her." Meredith smiled at the sleeping form on the bed next to her, but the smile was the saddest Joey'd ever seen. "When they broke up, it wasn't harsh, or heartbreaking, just inevitable and sad. But he'd had a long period of happiness with her, and I'm grateful for her making him happy, not regretful."

"But why didn't you take him, if you really love him so much?"

Meredith shook her head again. "You want me to have stopped making him happy? You want me to have taken away the ecstasy he felt when he was with her? You want me to have ruined a good portion of his life because of my petty desires?" She clenched her fist. "No. Never."

"But you could have made him as happy as she did," Joey argued. "Happier, even, you're his best friend!"

"_One_ of his best friends," Meredith corrected. "And I disagree - I couldn't have made him happy. He's made it perfectly clear that he's just fine and dandy without me and doesn't think of me like that."

"When did he say that?!" Joey yelled at her, livid. For someone showing so much insight, she was clueless.

"He never said it, but just look how he lives day-to-day." Meredith inclined her head toward him and met Joey's eyes, hers as hard and cold as ice. "With Ali, he was laughing and joking. With me, he's almost getting killed by a semi truck."

"Like he never had fights with Ali," Joey scoffed. "And that was a total accident! Why do you even compare those two occurrences?"

"Because if I were to tell him how I feel and have felt and will feel," Meredith said sharply, finally lashing out to his angry responses, "He'd be uncomfortable. I'm not the one he wants. He might decide not to do Downpour and get the credit he deserves - he might decide he doesn't even want to be my friend anymore, because it's obvious the friendship would be heavier on my side. And if I can't have him in my life the way I want, I'm going to have him in my life the only way I can have him - as his secretive, and silent, friend."

Joey had opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly, it all made sense. What she had been aware she was doing was what he'd been doing for years, too, but he'd been doing it subconsciously. But while she was submitting to it, he didn't like it, not one bit.

"I'm going to Jaime," he said, just loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough not to wake Brian, who had begun snoring restlessly.

"If she's happy alone or with someone else, it's best to not say anything," Meredith told him, just as quietly, as he turned his back and headed for the door.

Without turning around or dignifying her by looking her in the eyes, he said, "Not telling her? That's not love. That's not even trust."


	9. Lies

Brian had a sinking feeling that he wasn't supposed to have heard that…

Meredith sat in front of the TV in her apartment, on her couch, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and a blanket on top of her. The news show she was watching looked a lot more like celebrity gossip than actual news. Her own face was in the background, and the hostess was smiling a plastered-on smile. "Today, Meredith Stepien and friends Brian Holden, Lauren Lopez and Jaime Lyn Beaty were involved in a dangerous car accident. Luckily, all escaped unharmed, but for Brian Holden, who has a bruised nose from his semi-faulty airbag. We have some footage of them exiting the hospital. Playing now."

Meredith groaned as she and Brian appeared on the screen, surrounded by a hoard of reporters and cameras and microphones. "Miss Stepien, how did the accident occur?"

"I distracted the driver," she told them.

"I should have kept my eyes on the road, it's my fault," Brian added to her on-screen. She shook her head and the cameras snapped all sorts of pictures.

"Are you mad at him for nearly killing you all?" someone shouted.

"Of course not!" She looked appropriately abashed. "It was an accident!"

"Is Brian's nose injury going to delay the filming of the show?"

"No, no," Meredith had said, shaking her head. "It'll heal in about a week, and we can always cover it up or edit it out."

"What character is Brian going to be portraying?"

"You'll find out," Meredith had said, and she'd cracked a fake smile.

"Why did they choose Brian for the show?"

"They chose Brian because they felt he could portray the character the best, and he looked the most how they wanted the character to. They chose Lauren and Jaime for the same reasons."

"Who are Lauren and Jaime playing?"

"You'll see," Brian had responded before Meredith had a chance. "She won't tell us yet, just that we got roles."

"What do you have to say to the rumors that you two are dating?"

"Lies," the screen said, in both her and Brian's voices.

The footage ended and the smiling hostess returned. "So, next week, when the first episode of the new season of _Downpour_ airs, you'll find the answers to your questions," she said to the camera. "In other news -"

Meredith grabbed the remote and shut the television off angrily.

Not a remark on the accident, or how lucky they were, it was _Downpour, Downpour, Downpour_. It was like they didn't even care about her anymore, as long as they got their oh-so-precious show!

She didn't jump when her phone buzzed the alert of a text. Grabbing it and setting her hot chocolate down on the end table, she read the message.

_Are you alright? I saw the news show and I'm freaking out!_

Meredith smiled at Jim's concern. Her co-star (_the_ Jim Parsons!) was one of the most pleasant and kind people you could ever meet. _We're all fine_, she texted back, _and we'll see you at work in two days, all of us_.

She didn't have to wait more than a few seconds before he responded.

Thank God! We're all excited to finally meet them, toss in a 'hi' for me!

She grinned, and glanced to Jaime's bedroom door, which was propped open the slightest bit, not even a full two centimeters. She heard the hushed voices of Jaime and Joey in there, and decided she'd wait before passing on the sentiment.

"You sure spend a lot of time out here."

Meredith gave a start and whirled around to face Brian, who was standing right behind her. His hair was tousled by the wind that was blowing quite hard tonight and his eyes sparkled with the refreshing cool it brought. His skin was almost glowing and his smile was as breathtaking as ever. "Brian," she said, shaking her head to clear her vision, hoping he was just a figment of her imagination; unfortunately, he stayed solid and real. "Not - not too much time. Just allowing Lauren and Darren some phone-call privacy and Joey and Jaime some alone-time."

"Joey and Jaime are still chatting, huh?" he asked, pushing her shoulder with his playfully. "I'd have thought that after four hours they'd be done confessing their love for each other."

"Not everyone is like Denise and Walker," said Meredith, rolling her eyes. "Just a quick little 'kiss me' and suddenly they're soul mates."

Brian laughed. "I completely agree." His laugh wasn't silvery, or like bells; it was light and casual and beautifully welcoming, friendly and simple. It was a golden staccato. And then the look of ease flitted from his face and a somber one took its place. "You do know that the accident wasn't your fault, right?"

"Brian," she moaned, dropping her head to her hands and resting her elbows on the ledge, pushing some of her windswept hair out of her face as she did so.

"I'm not kidding!" Brian insisted. "I got distracted, and not by you, by memories and the song, so you shouldn't go blaming yourself for it."

"The past is the past, and if we're constantly living in it we lose our chance at a future." Meredith muttered the words almost warningly. "Drop the subject and pick a different one." She wasn't buying his argument, she knew it was her fault. And she was done discussing it.

"Fine." Brian sighed too, and leaned down next to her, also resting his elbows on the ledge. "Are we ever going to go to the beach?"

"We can tomorrow," Meredith suggested without thinking about it. "We're not filming until Wednesday."

He nodded his consent. "Just you and me, or the rest of 'em, too?"

"Just you and me."

Meredith had meant to go with the second option, but her tongue had a mind of its own. She certainly hadn't meant to plan a date - because that's basically what it was - with him! Hadn't it already been proven that all she did was hurt them both? A day at the beach, with just Brian. She was an idiot, but she'd be lying if she said the idea didn't appeal to her. "But let's try not to die this time," she said, trying to make a joke out of it.

"Deal," he said, and though she expected him to stick out his hand, what he did was raise his hand gently and cup her cheek with it.

His hand was holding her face as gently and tenderly as it possibly could. Without putting any thought into the action, she closed her eyes and let his hand support her face, raising her own to cover it. He was warm, not sticky, but warm, and where he touched her she felt jolts of electricity float through her skin and tangle themselves in her stomach, but his other fingers tucking a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear calmed the stirring anxiety. She was comfortable and flattered but mostly, just free.

Free in her desire, free in her wants, free in her needs. She didn't have to think about keeping the secret from him; she didn't have to worry about him not returning it. For the moment, everything was easy and simple and _free_.


	10. Free

"You look ridiculous," she told him, as he tried to shake the water that was nestled in his hair out. She bit back a laugh - it looked like he thought he was a model of some sort, flipping back his long blonde locks for he camera. Well, with the number of cameras that had ambushed them, it wouldn't be surprising if he was showing off just a bit.

She thought back to their day as she kept her eyes on the road. The cameras of the paparazzi had appeared about an hour after they'd arrived - but by that time, they'd already been deep in the water, having an epic splash war that had left all four eyes involved stinging and all four ears involved clogged. They had splashed and slapped and yelled and teased; they'd had fun. At one point, Brian had picked her up, like he was carrying her bridal-style, shouted, "FOR TEAM DOWNPOUR!" and then literally threw her into a huge wave. She'd come up sputtering and laughing so hard they'd had to take a break, and had just talked in the water for a while, about the show, her co-workers, what the gang had been up to for the last four months - everything. The cameras had just snapped pictures as she and he talked to fans in the water; they couldn't come near, or the equipment might be ruined. And then, finally, they had seen that the sky had somehow become at least six shades darker and several shades warmer in color, and realized they were both completely pruned, wrinkled and soaked, with water seeping into every nook of their bodies. So they'd walked out of the water and run into the shower house, where they'd stored their bags, and had showered and gotten into clothes quickly. They'd raced to see who could be done faster; he won, simply because he didn't bother to brush his hair.

Which it looked like he was regretting, because at the moment, he was flinging it around like a metal guitarist, spraying the interior of her car with drops of H2O. "Brian!" she complained, as he sprayed her. "Seriously, you'll ruin my car!"

"What do you propose I do?" he asked her. "Use you as a towel?"

"Stick your head out the window like the dog you are," she said jokingly, pointing to the towel he had at his feet for the real answer.

"Alright," he said, and he rolled his window down and stuck his head out, shaking it for all the world as if he were a very excited chihuahua.

"Brian," she laughed, flushing red as the paparazzi driving behind them snapped photos. "You're ruining your public image."

He obviously didn't care, and at the moment, neither did she; she was a bit preoccupied with laughing and trying to drive at the same time. "Brian," she said again.

"Woo-hoo!" he yelled out the window. "_Yeaaaaaaah_!"

She couldn't stop laughing. He was a really stupid, adorable puppy, just letting the wind fling all the water from his hair and blow it onto the paparazzi vans behind them. "You're so stupid!" she yelled at him, over the sound of the wind rushing past.

He ignored her again. "_YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH_!"

"Who is that?" Meredith asked, nodding to his phone, which was buzzing from the floor at his feet.

He finally seemed to hear her, and pulled his head back inside. She rolled the window back up. "Don't know -" he picked it up and said, "Text from Dylan."

"What's it say?" she asked, not looking at it because she was driving.

He took a moment to read it. "He and Jaime and Lauren are going over to the hotel with the rest of the gang and they're all having a big sleepover - we're invited," he added, scrolling down. He looked back up at her, his wild and completely insane hair matching the look on his face. "Up for a sleepover?"

"Sure," she said, grinning happily at him. "We'll need to stop by my place so I can get pajamas."

"And mine, I have pajamas too," he reminded her with a smirk.

"Naturally," she agreed, nodding.

"What is this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she entered his kitchen. She'd been sitting on the couch for ages, waiting for him to get his pajamas and then come back. She'd heard footsteps and doors closing, and while it had confused her, she'd decided to let him be. But it had been over ten minutes, and she'd gotten bored; so she'd gone looking for him. The next room was the kitchen; and, upon stepping inside, she saw Brian, hair now brushed and with a serene smile on his face, standing, standing in front of a large wine bottle and two glasses, both of which had a deep red liquid in them.

"This," he said, "Is a celebration of me getting on your show, and making you laugh so many times today."

"Which one?" she asked, unable to keep the smile from spreading over her lips as she walked towards her, her hand out for her glass. He handed it to her, being careful not to spill the wine.

"Both," he said, "but primarily the second. Laughter is a lot better than any television show."

"What if that television show makes you laugh?" she asked, her eyebrow not yet lowered, as she took a gulp of her drink.

"Double whammy," he said, shrugging, and drank from his own glass. When he'd swallowed, he asked her, "What role am I playing on the show?"

Meredith could feel the slight burn of alcohol as it went down her throat, and could already feel the haze sneaking up on her, but it was familiar and she fought it off easily, with hardly any conscious effort. "Not telling," she said, grinning at her 'inferior'.

"So you're just going to hoard it over all of us until we actually film?" he clarified, pouring himself another glass, having drained his.

"That's correct," she said, "Although I might tell Lauren, just to make up with her…" she frowned, thinking of her friend, whom she was currently in a quarrel with. She held out her glass for him to refill.

He did, and asked, "But what about me and Jaime?" He was almost pouting as he downed his drink again, in one huge gulp.

"Slow down there," she warned him, as he went for another refill. "And you and Jaime will find out soon enough."

"No, we won't," he argued, shaking his head. "I want to know what character I have to get in before I have to get into character."

"You'll find out," she repeated, finishing her second glass and reaching for a third subconsciously. "Am I the only one who likes surprises these days?"

"No," he said, following her example and giving himself more wine. "You might be the only one who likes secrets, though."

"Bullshit," she said, shaking her head, not only to disagree with him but to try and clear it of the slight buzz that was already nesting. "All celebrities like them. And that's why they hate the paparazzi."

"You've been totally open with the paparazzi," he pointed out, and in his voice she could hear the beginning of a slur, but the control that he always gained when drunk. When Brian got drunk, he was playful but could be serious and demanding, until he wasn't having fun with it anymore, and then he was back to an over-hyper, alcohol-riddled dog running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

"Not totally," she said. "For instance, I'm keeping the secret of your characters from them." She beamed tauntingly at him.

"Which is totally not cool," he said, smacking her softly. "They'll find out sooner or later."

"I've told everyone to keep it a secret."

"That doesn't mean they will," he said. "They'll probably slip up. not everyone is as good at… keeping secrets as you."

Meredith socked her head to the side, the haze very slowly but undoubtedly beginning to shroud her senses as she sipped once more. "What do you mean?"

"What made Joey go after Jaime?" he asked suddenly, his voice hard and determined. She was sure he was drunk… and that she was close, very close, to being so as well. But she was startled - for a moment, her wine-loosed tongue almost spilled the truth.

She had to come up with something, something quickly. His blue eyes were staring at her, waiting, waiting for an answer. It seemed like he already knew the answer.

"He heard that she could orgasm three times in one round," she blurted, the haze taking full control and jumping right to sex. She was already flushed red, but she was blushing under that, and was sure he could tell; but the alcohol wouldn't let embarrassment take root. She set down her glass on her counter with a _clink_.

Brian grinned devilishly. "That's impossible. Physically impossible."

"No, it's not," she argued, sticking to her story, even though she knew it was highly improbable; but, when drunk, all things seemed possible, doable even. "You just have to have a guy who's up to the challenge."

"So it's all in the guy?" he asked, and set his own glass down, smiling at her. "The guy has to take control? He's responsible for her orgasms?"

"We could ask them," Meredith smirked playfully, and when he took a step closer, she didn't retreat.

"Or," he suggested, his voice lowering, "we could experiment and see if it's true."

"You are not up to it," she teased him, his arms snaking around her waist. When his fingers found the small of her back, his skin of hers nearly lit her drunk body on fire with the heat and electricity shooting through it. She had her arms wrapped around his neck loosely, messing with his hair teasingly, a mischievous grin lighting up her face.

"I bet I am," he whispered into her ear, and his lips nipped at her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

A small part of her mind reminded her that this could totally screw everything she'd worked so hard for, but she told it to shut up, and it vanished behind the veil of sense.

"You'd bet what?" she demanded in a low, willowy whisper, letting her breath wash over his neck.

"Let's see…" he mused gently, and then his lips found her neck and pressed against it gently. She focused, with a lot of difficulty, on standing upright and not just melting into him. "If I can, you tell me who I'm playing - and if I can't, you keep the secret."

"Deal," she murmured gently, craning her neck to give him better exposure and gasping slightly as she felt his hands around her waist tighten and his tongue flicker onto the skin of her neck as he massaged it with his lips greedily.


	11. Drink

**Warning: this chapter is pure smut, a.k.a. sex. If you don't want to read it and would prefer to keep the story somewhat cleaner, just stop reading here for now and move along to the next chapter. Thank you!**

* * *

Meredith closed Brian's bedroom door, and the cold air didn't sting her nude and exposed body, but caressed it. She didn't feel nervous; the alcohol made sure of that.

She turned around, and there was Brian - all clothes missing. She stared at him, transfixed. His skin glinted bronze against the night sky outside, shone in the dim light that was coming from the lamp on his bedside table. He was staring at her the same way; her eyes fell downward, past his waist.

"You're on," Brian muttered, and she didn't have time to reply after looking up to meet his eyes, glazed with drunkenness and desire.

In an instant, he was on top of her, crushing her into the soft carpeted floor. With one quick movement, he impaled her onto his cock, burying himself to the hilt as she arched off the floor, screaming as loudly as her voice would allow.

She couldn't think, wouldn't think. Not when such overwhelming pleasure was scorching through her veins like molten lava. She didn't care now whether she seemed too wild…too uninhibited. She was keening loudly, that sweet spot between her legs clamping down greedily on his cock, wanting more, needing more, never satiated with just one stroke…always craving one more…always one more.

She must have been sobbing because she felt wetness on her cheeks. The pleasure was torturous, so intense that it was painful…pulled every nerve until she was on edge and thrashing from the fire that incinerated her, starting from her core, all because of that cock buried so deep inside her quivering body.

And all that time… Brian had clung desperately to his mission, his goal, to winning this bet, and hadn't moved an inch.

He was watching her, his eyes dominated by large dilated midnight pupils, aroused by the desperate noises she was making. It was such sweet success, to strip Meredith of all that was prim and proper in her manner and appearance that she had to keep up for the paparazzi… he loved the thought that he was the only one able to bare her to the world in this raw, unadulterated form. A woman at her most primal instinct.

Slowly, aware of the sting of pain and the torrent of pleasure it caused her, Brian drew his cock out of her, pulling out almost fully until the tip was nestled at her slick nether lips, drawing slow, torrid circles as she cried desperately for him to fill her again, wanting that burning sensation of being fucked by a man who meant every stroke and every thrust.

Brian was only too happy to comply. Swallowing his own violent need for release, he moved slowly, easing himself into her, shifting so that he rubbed gently against her clit with his repeated shallow strokes. Fuck, his cock was throbbing viciously, a haze of lust clouding his senses. The dark side of him told him to move, to enjoy the sweet willing body beneath his with a frenzied fucking and to leave the agony of this torture for another time.

No! He shook his head. Three times. He'd make her orgasm three times and then he could have her, fuck her like a wild beast for the rest of her life. Clenching his teeth, trying to concentrate on his task through his drunken pleasure, he stared into her misted eyes and resumed his patient and sure strokes, shallow and grinding. Every ridge of his cock rubbed against the walls of her pussy, drawing her slowly, ever so slowly towards an unknown precipice.

Meredith couldn't stand it. She wanted it harder. Faster. She wanted to be slammed into and fucked so desperately that she bruised, so that she was shoved across the carpeted floor in a tumult of orgasms and sensation. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but every bead of sweat that was going to form was going to be well worth it or her name wasn't Meredith Stepien.

She voiced her thoughts, gasping out the words in between moans.

Brian was in a place of determined euphoria, and let lose a deep laugh that both reassured and excited her.

But just to please her, Brian drove hard into her suddenly, savoring the exquisite moan which was torn from her throat.

The ache was intensifying between her legs, there was something brilliant just beyond this physical torture and Meredith could almost touch the wondrous euphoria which was starting to engulf her cunt. Brian could feel her, she knew he could. She could see the way his teeth were clenched harder and she could tell that he felt every single vicious pulsing of her pussy, every single time those walls became slicker and slicker with her juices.

"Come on Meredith. Moan for me… moan… come baby… let it go…" Brian couldn't help but release a husky groan into his words, his mission slipping from his mind for just a second - but he soon reclaimed it, and was driven harder in his drunken desire to win. "Moan… moan, come on, baby, moan…"

And she did, the slow teasing pace never sped up and never stopped but that was all she needed. When Brian buried himself hilt deep inside her, her pussy clamped down and her hot slick walls tried desperately to milk him, wanting to feel his hot cum lick the inside of her cunt, coat every single inch of her convulsing flesh.

But he didn't. Brian screwed his eyes shut and told himself to ride that dark wave of pleasure. Without even waiting for that first storm to pass, Brian thrust hard, drove home his cock with an expression of the violent fucking she was bound to receive later when his control finally snapped. But for now…he contented himself with a few desperate shoves into that blistering treasure of flesh and pleasure and moaned with her when her voice soared free from her sweet parted lips, stealing her breath and her will.

"Brian… I don't care about the bet anymore…just please… Dammit… please…"

Brian was laughing pleasantly, but huskily, his eyes fixed on the magnificent sight of Meredith begging.

"I have something to prove darling…but I'll indulge you…just for a moment."

His pace exploded, all of sudden the slow shallow movements morphed into feral deep thrusts as he slammed into her repeatedly, brutal hard movements which forced her body to stretch to its limits…and Meredith loved it. It felt so good…like she was caught in a storm as unstoppable as the tides; every inch of her pussy was being rubbed and stroked, bringing her nerves to life. She was screaming bloody murder, she could hear herself, words which tumbled from her lips were incomprehensible, mere ruins of dark promises and rewards for Brian if he continued like he did.

But then…the pace slowed, Brian drew himself slowly and completely out of her pussy, then sunk in with just that same slow pace until he was submerged completely. He started again, his deep rumbling laughter filling her ears as she began to whimper once more.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

Shifting slightly, he drew her legs around his waist so that he could sit up a little as he moved within her, his eyes fixated on that sweet junction where their bodies met. He watched, utterly fascinated, as his cock slid leisurely out of her pussy, coated in her silken juices, his cock shining in the firelight.

With another deep rumbling laugh of satisfaction, Brian picked up the pace again. He slammed into her relentlessly, every thrust indicating the deep and controlled savagery which existed within Brian's wild side.

Meredith's voice was hoarse with the effort; she could only moan now as she writhed and thrashed beneath his rough attack, her hips met his thrust for thrust, not caring if she bruised or bled…as long as he never stopped, never deprived her of that monster between his legs.

There! Meredith grabbed for the exhilarating sensation once more as her core convulsed with shock and pure, agonizing pleasure. Her world was torn apart in an instant then rebuilt with the waves of sinister, retreating pleasure which was her orgasm.

It wasn't possible…damn it…maybe…just maybe…

Brian didn't let her finish the thought. His control was slipping fast and he couldn't keep up the teasing pace any more. He wanted release…the rougher the better. He raised her legs so that they rested precariously on his shoulders and smiled reassuringly, but crazed, down at her shocked expression.

Her beautiful hot little mouth opened to a perfect 'O' as Brian drove deep, the angle allowing him to slide so deep within her, she was afraid he could never get out. But he did. He drew out quickly and thrust again. Their pace grew more frenzied and Meredith arched herself completely off the floor so that she could push her battered, throbbing cunt against his cock, wanting nothing more than to go deeper, harder and faster.

Brian clamped his fingers onto her hips and pushed her to meet his every thrust with a ferocity which would shock any on-lookers but Meredith didn't mind, hell, she just wanted it more…She could tell he was close…on the verge of exploding. His fat cock was swelling, hardening, stretching her so that she was sure her flesh would tear.

She couldn't hold on. She no longer cared if he won the bet as long as she could get to the end. This one was bigger…more intense than the previous, something about sharing the pleasure and agony with him just made it all the more thrilling. He was fucking her so hard…his body lost so deeply in hers… Damn, this man had to be some kind of demigod. Most men could barely make it to the woman's first, let alone third orgasm and yet…there he was above her…moaning in the most guttural way she had ever heard and then…with one final vicious thrust…

Nirvana.

The room was engulfed in silence. She couldn't make a single noise as the deep gut wrenching pleasure engulfed her…and neither, it seemed, could he. Brian's mouth was held in a silent scream, his eyes wide and fixated upon hers. She could not control the deep desperate jerks of her hips as the orgasm swept through her body like a torrential maelstrom, nor could Brian contain the continual shallow reckless thrusts as he spilled long spurts of his cum inside her battered pussy.

When finally her other senses had returned to her, Meredith let her legs fall from his shoulders. After the burning sensation of his cum faded, a numb senseless state consumed her mind. She felt at that moment, utterly and completely boneless. The last thing she was aware of before she succumbed to the dark alluring depths of dreamless sleep was Brian; his smile was fixed firmly on his face as her eyes began fluttering shut.


	12. Nirvana

"Meredith?" Jaime called out, entering their apartment and tossing her keys onto the couch, along with her pajamas. "Meredith, we're back." There was no answer; the silence seemed to want to compensate for it, and became very loud and very thick. "Meredith?"

"Let her sleep," Lauren said with a shrug, tossing her own pajamas onto the couch and then falling onto it with a sigh. Jaime shut the door behind her, and looked at Lauren quizzically.

"Since when are you not mad at her?" she asked, sitting down at her friend's feet.

"I'm still mad at her," Lauren said, "But if I want a full-out fight, I'm gonna have to wait until she's completely rested."

"Lauren!" Jaime scolded, and then saw the childish grin on her face. "That's completely immature," she continued anyway, shaking her head. "It is not Meredith's fault, she blames herself already."

"She does, does she?" Lauren asked skeptically, raising her eyebrows. "Then why did she so adamantly say it wasn't her fault?"

"Because you were being accusative, and having one of your best friends yell at you is enough to make anyone defensive," said Jaime seriously.

"It's not my fault!" Lauren exclaimed in defense, sitting upright. "You saw how they were flirting!"

"Yes, I did," Jaime agreed, nodding. "But they weren't doing it on purpose, Brian got us out of the way, and nobody got hurt except his nose, so you bringing it up and making it her - their - fault really didn't help anything."

"Just because they weren't doing it on purpose doesn't mean they weren't doing it," Lauren stated loudly, and fell back, her sigh not echoing. "And I don't really want to fight. I was just angry that their little love-fest nearly got us killed."

"Like I said," Jaime clarified, "Nothing bad happened except fear and a little bruise."

"Should I apologize?"

"Yes." Jaime was certain. "And then she'll apologize and you'll hug and she'll probably admit she has feelings for him to you, like she did to me."

"What?!"

"Shit!" Jaime clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going as wide as Lauren's as she realized what she just said.

"When did she admit to having feelings for him?" Lauren demanded, somewhat angrier than before but mostly just curious. "And why did she tell you?"

Jaime shook her head, not removing her hand. She'd said too much.

There were four sharp raps on the door, and Lauren jumped up. "Who's that?" she asked, and then looked at Jaime, who shrugged. "You won't tell me?" she said slowly, and they both jumped when the raps interrupted Jaime shaking her head. "Alright, coming!" Lauren called, and bounded toward the door, yanking it open. "Meredith? _Oof_!"

Meredith had launched herself at her tiny friend the moment the door had opened. She was still wearing her pajamas, an old shirt and PJ pants, and she hugged Lauren tightly to her, almost panicked. "I'm so sorry," she said, nearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry, you were right, it's my fault, can we not fight anymore?"

"Okay!" Lauren choked out, trying to push the larger woman off of her, being squished against her chest. "You're forgiven, I'm sorry too! Now get off!"

Meredith released her at once, and as Lauren stumbled back, gasping for air, she slammed the door and took a deep breath, leaning against it and closing her eyes, tilting her head back until only her hair was between her and her support.

"What was that about?" Jaime asked, having moved closer to them as they'd embraced. "It was a rather speedy make-up. What brought it on?"

Meredith groaned with a mix of befuddlement and exasperation and regret, and slid down the door, bending her knees with it as her hair was pushed up and her butt down until it reached the floor. "I slept with Brian."

"_WHAT_?!" screeched Lauren, her eyes turning into saucers with chocolate milk in them, and Jaime put both hands in a temple form over her mouth and nose, going completely still. "WHEN DID YOU - _WHY_ DID YOU - _WHAT_?! THIS COULD _RUIN_ STARKID!"

"I'm so stupid," Meredith moaned, dropping her head to her knees. "God, I'm so stupid."

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Lauren screamed furiously, stomping her right foot loudly on the floor.

"Holy shit, Mere," Jaime muttered, dropping her hand to cross over her chest, "I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it."

"But we were drunk!" Meredith retaliated, seemingly to herself.

"Oh, you idiot," Jaime muttered pitifully.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" Lauren exploded, her face having turned a very angry shade of red and her entire body quivering with her fury; she was livid. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" she shouted, her voice nearly hoarse, pointing an accusing finger at Jaime. "WHAT DID YOU _DO_?!" she said, her voice going up an octave as she swiveled to point at Meredith, who was still a ball on the floor.

"Lauren," Jaime started, her voice gentle, trying to get her to calm down.

"TELL ME!"

"We can't until you're quiet," Jaime tried to explain, but Lauren appeared not to hear her, glaring viciously at Meredith.

"YOU _LIED_ TO ME!" she bellowed at the brunette on the floor, her red face going purple, and it looked like she hadn't breathed since she'd started screaming. "YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM! YOU _LIED_!"

"_LAUREN_!" Jaime yelled as loudly as she could, and the tiny one froze, and then whipped around to face her, her expression one of malicious betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Meredith muttered, mostly to herself.

"Shut up," Jaime advised, and then turned to Lauren. "Do you remember her second month here?"

Lauren did not respond; Jaime took it as a yes - if it had been a no, more yelling would have occurred.

"Well, she got really homesick and scared, and so she called Brian," Jaime explained. "And, because even if he didn't have feelings for her he still cared about her, he hopped on a plane and came out here. Remember?"

Lauren nodded curtly, her eyes flickering from the girl on the floor to the one in front of her.

"Well, he comforted her," Jaime said, and then glanced at Meredith, who was trying desperately not to start crying, "and then he brought up LeakyCon, from 2012."

"Where they kissed?" Lauren clarified, most of her anger having died as she realized she was in for a long story.

"Where they kissed," Jaime confirmed. "And remember how they were dating for, like, a week after that, and then split up because of the fan pressure?"

"Yes." So she was still mad, but not furious. If she had been over it completely, it'd've been 'Yeah'. Jaime knew her friend.

"Well, before they broke up, the fans had been writing all sorts of mean letters saying 'Brian should be with Lauren' or 'Meredith should be with Dylan' or things like that," Jaime said, and watched as Lauren's anger melted into shock. "And they broke up because they started feeling like they really shouldn't be together." She looked down at Meredith, whose shoulders had begun shaking. "Am I telling it right?"

"Y-Yeah." The word was thick and quickly spoken; she didn't dare elaborate. She couldn't break down completely, not here, not now…

"So, when he was comforting her, he brought it up," Jaime said, continuing to soliloquize. "But he said it all wrong. He said something like 'Because I should be with someone the fans _like_, not you'. And, of course, that hurt her feelings a lot more than necessary." Lauren nodded, signaling she wanted to hear more. "And even though he realized his mistake, every time he tried to apologize, he made it worse, like, 'I mean, because they said I should be with Lauren, and it ruined our relationship, which still wouldn't have lasted' or something along the lines of that."

"Fuck," Lauren whispered, and Jaime gave a half-smile in agreement before continuing.

"But Meredith forgave him. And then they went to a bar to ease the tension, and he ended up sleeping _in her bed_ with some random chick from the bar."

"Fuck," Lauren repeated, and Jaime half-smiled again.

"Literally," she joked gently, and Meredith made an odd sound, somewhat like a cat being strangled. "Sorry. Too soon? Anywho, so, Meredith realized he probably would never have feelings for her, even though she still loved him, and so when he went home, she called me because she knew I liked Joey and I'd understand," Lauren smirked, "and told me everything, including how she wanted to be the one _sleeping in her bed_, if you catch my drift."

Lauren's mouth fell open into a little _o_, and she looked to the person in question on the floor. She seemed to take a moment to process it, and Meredith had become very still on the floor, like a statue of one of the weeping angels from Doctor Who. "So - okay, I get it," she said, her voice quiet and ashamed, "And I'm sorry for yelling. But what happened last night? You were supposed to come over for the sleepover."

Meredith raised her head, and Jaime nearly jumped out of her skin at how detached she looked; she really did look like stone, her skin was ashen and her face completely neutral. "We came to get my pajamas, and then his," she said, and her voice was completely emotionless; both of the other girls stared, worried and a bit freaked out by how wooden she'd become. "And then he opened a bottle of wine to celebrate getting on the show, and we… got drunk. And made a bet that involved us… sleeping together… with certain details that decided if I told him what his role is or not."

"Damn, Meredith," Jaime said, "How drunk were you? That's like the worst kind of sex, bet-sex."

Lauren gave Jaime a bemused look and she flushed red, realizing what she'd just said.

"And then I woke up this morning, and he was still asleep next to me on the floor -"

"The floor? Wow," Lauren commented. "Must have been wild."

"Shut up!" Jaime hissed, beckoning Meredith to go on.

"I tried to get into my room through the patio-balcony thing, but the paparazzi were waiting for something to photograph, because they'd followed us from the beach to the apartment, and when they saw me they started taking pictures." Meredith's voice was beginning to shake and her eyes were beginning to grow wet. "So I jumped back inside and closed the door, and that woke him up, and he called out my name and I - I panicked." She bowed her head in shame. "I ran for here and hoped he wouldn't follow me, and then I realized I left my keys here because I thought that surely one of you had taken yours, and since I was going to you guys anyway, and then you opened the door and -"

"We're all caught up, thanks," Lauren stopped her, holding up her palm. "And you didn't keep your end of the deal?"

"What?" Meredith looked at her blankly.

"The sex bet you made. You didn't tell him who he's playing."

"N-No." Meredith's face suddenly swelled with color and her eyes swelled with tears; not only her voice, but her whole body shook. "Because this is going to fuck up everything -"

"You've already done that part," Jaime joked, and Lauren smacked her stomach to get her to shut up.

"- and I j-just… I didn't want to face it right away, s-so… I c-came home." And the tears spilled over. "Telling him only would have m-made it m-more awkward, th-though," she sputtered, and closed her eyes, hoping it would be enough to keep the drops of saltwater at bay; it wasn't, and they still stained her cheeks. Jaime went to comfort her, but Lauren grabbed her elbow and stopped her, her face completely serious.

"Why? Who's he playing?" she asked, her voice a lot softer than her facial expression.

"M-my love interest!"

Nobody stopped Jaime this time from kneeling next to Meredith and putting her arms around her - in fact, Lauren did too. They simply held the trembling, weeping girl, and when each sob tore from her throat a small part of their own self-control tore, too, and they both were blinking back tears as they whispered soft comforts.


	13. Soliloquy

"Meredith?" Jaime called out, entering their apartment and tossing her keys onto the couch, along with her pajamas. "Meredith, we're back." There was no answer; the silence seemed to want to compensate for it, and became very loud and very thick. "Meredith?"

"Let her sleep," Lauren said with a shrug, tossing her own pajamas onto the couch and then falling onto it with a sigh. Jaime shut the door behind her, and looked at Lauren quizzically.

"Since when are you not mad at her?" she asked, sitting down at her friend's feet.

"I'm still mad at her," Lauren said, "But if I want a full-out fight, I'm gonna have to wait until she's completely rested."

"Lauren!" Jaime scolded, and then saw the childish grin on her face. "That's completely immature," she continued anyway, shaking her head. "It is not Meredith's fault, she blames herself already."

"She does, does she?" Lauren asked skeptically, raising her eyebrows. "Then why did she so adamantly say it wasn't her fault?"

"Because you were being accusative, and having one of your best friends yell at you is enough to make anyone defensive," said Jaime seriously.

"It's not my fault!" Lauren exclaimed in defense, sitting upright. "You saw how they were flirting!"

"Yes, I did," Jaime agreed, nodding. "But they weren't doing it on purpose, Brian got us out of the way, and nobody got hurt except his nose, so you bringing it up and making it her - their - fault really didn't help anything."

"Just because they weren't doing it on purpose doesn't mean they weren't doing it," Lauren stated loudly, and fell back, her sigh not echoing. "And I don't really want to fight. I was just angry that their little love-fest nearly got us killed."

"Like I said," Jaime clarified, "Nothing bad happened except fear and a little bruise."

"Should I apologize?"

"Yes." Jaime was certain. "And then she'll apologize and you'll hug and she'll probably admit she has feelings for him to you, like she did to me."

"What?!"

"Shit!" Jaime clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going as wide as Lauren's as she realized what she just said.

"When did she admit to having feelings for him?" Lauren demanded, somewhat angrier than before but mostly just curious. "And why did she tell you?"

Jaime shook her head, not removing her hand. She'd said too much.

There were four sharp raps on the door, and Lauren jumped up. "Who's that?" she asked, and then looked at Jaime, who shrugged. "You won't tell me?" she said slowly, and they both jumped when the raps interrupted Jaime shaking her head. "Alright, coming!" Lauren called, and bounded toward the door, yanking it open. "Meredith? _Oof_!"

Meredith had launched herself at her tiny friend the moment the door had opened. She was still wearing her pajamas, an old shirt and PJ pants, and she hugged Lauren tightly to her, almost panicked. "I'm so sorry," she said, nearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry, you were right, it's my fault, can we not fight anymore?"

"Okay!" Lauren choked out, trying to push the larger woman off of her, being squished against her chest. "You're forgiven, I'm sorry too! Now get off!"

Meredith released her at once, and as Lauren stumbled back, gasping for air, she slammed the door and took a deep breath, leaning against it and closing her eyes, tilting her head back until only her hair was between her and her support.

"What was that about?" Jaime asked, having moved closer to them as they'd embraced. "It was a rather speedy make-up. What brought it on?"

Meredith groaned with a mix of befuddlement and exasperation and regret, and slid down the door, bending her knees with it as her hair was pushed up and her butt down until it reached the floor. "I slept with Brian."

"_WHAT_?!" screeched Lauren, her eyes turning into saucers with chocolate milk in them, and Jaime put both hands in a temple form over her mouth and nose, going completely still. "WHEN DID YOU - _WHY_ DID YOU - _WHAT_?! THIS COULD _RUIN_ STARKID!"

"I'm so stupid," Meredith moaned, dropping her head to her knees. "God, I'm so stupid."

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Lauren screamed furiously, stomping her right foot loudly on the floor.

"Holy shit, Mere," Jaime muttered, dropping her hand to cross over her chest, "I didn't think you'd actually _do_ it."

"But we were drunk!" Meredith retaliated, seemingly to herself.

"Oh, you idiot," Jaime muttered pitifully.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" Lauren exploded, her face having turned a very angry shade of red and her entire body quivering with her fury; she was livid. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" she shouted, her voice nearly hoarse, pointing an accusing finger at Jaime. "WHAT DID YOU _DO_?!" she said, her voice going up an octave as she swiveled to point at Meredith, who was still a ball on the floor.

"Lauren," Jaime started, her voice gentle, trying to get her to calm down.

"TELL ME!"

"We can't until you're quiet," Jaime tried to explain, but Lauren appeared not to hear her, glaring viciously at Meredith.

"YOU _LIED_ TO ME!" she bellowed at the brunette on the floor, her red face going purple, and it looked like she hadn't breathed since she'd started screaming. "YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM! YOU _LIED_!"

"_LAUREN_!" Jaime yelled as loudly as she could, and the tiny one froze, and then whipped around to face her, her expression one of malicious betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Meredith muttered, mostly to herself.

"Shut up," Jaime advised, and then turned to Lauren. "Do you remember her second month here?"

Lauren did not respond; Jaime took it as a yes - if it had been a no, more yelling would have occurred.

"Well, she got really homesick and scared, and so she called Brian," Jaime explained. "And, because even if he didn't have feelings for her he still cared about her, he hopped on a plane and came out here. Remember?"

Lauren nodded curtly, her eyes flickering from the girl on the floor to the one in front of her.

"Well, he comforted her," Jaime said, and then glanced at Meredith, who was trying desperately not to start crying, "and then he brought up LeakyCon, from 2012."

"Where they kissed?" Lauren clarified, most of her anger having died as she realized she was in for a long story.

"Where they kissed," Jaime confirmed. "And remember how they were dating for, like, a week after that, and then split up because of the fan pressure?"

"Yes." So she was still mad, but not furious. If she had been over it completely, it'd've been 'Yeah'. Jaime knew her friend.

"Well, before they broke up, the fans had been writing all sorts of mean letters saying 'Brian should be with Lauren' or 'Meredith should be with Dylan' or things like that," Jaime said, and watched as Lauren's anger melted into shock. "And they broke up because they started feeling like they really shouldn't be together." She looked down at Meredith, whose shoulders had begun shaking. "Am I telling it right?"

"Y-Yeah." The word was thick and quickly spoken; she didn't dare elaborate. She couldn't break down completely, not here, not now…

"So, when he was comforting her, he brought it up," Jaime said, continuing to soliloquize. "But he said it all wrong. He said something like 'Because I should be with someone the fans _like_, not you'. And, of course, that hurt her feelings a lot more than necessary." Lauren nodded, signaling she wanted to hear more. "And even though he realized his mistake, every time he tried to apologize, he made it worse, like, 'I mean, because they said I should be with Lauren, and it ruined our relationship, which still wouldn't have lasted' or something along the lines of that."

"Fuck," Lauren whispered, and Jaime gave a half-smile in agreement before continuing.

"But Meredith forgave him. And then they went to a bar to ease the tension, and he ended up sleeping _in her bed_ with some random chick from the bar."

"Fuck," Lauren repeated, and Jaime half-smiled again.

"Literally," she joked gently, and Meredith made an odd sound, somewhat like a cat being strangled. "Sorry. Too soon? Anywho, so, Meredith realized he probably would never have feelings for her, even though she still loved him, and so when he went home, she called me because she knew I liked Joey and I'd understand," Lauren smirked, "and told me everything, including how she wanted to be the one _sleeping in her bed_, if you catch my drift."

Lauren's mouth fell open into a little _o_, and she looked to the person in question on the floor. She seemed to take a moment to process it, and Meredith had become very still on the floor, like a statue of one of the weeping angels from Doctor Who. "So - okay, I get it," she said, her voice quiet and ashamed, "And I'm sorry for yelling. But what happened last night? You were supposed to come over for the sleepover."

Meredith raised her head, and Jaime nearly jumped out of her skin at how detached she looked; she really did look like stone, her skin was ashen and her face completely neutral. "We came to get my pajamas, and then his," she said, and her voice was completely emotionless; both of the other girls stared, worried and a bit freaked out by how wooden she'd become. "And then he opened a bottle of wine to celebrate getting on the show, and we… got drunk. And made a bet that involved us… sleeping together… with certain details that decided if I told him what his role is or not."

"Damn, Meredith," Jaime said, "How drunk were you? That's like the worst kind of sex, bet-sex."

Lauren gave Jaime a bemused look and she flushed red, realizing what she'd just said.

"And then I woke up this morning, and he was still asleep next to me on the floor -"

"The floor? Wow," Lauren commented. "Must have been wild."

"Shut up!" Jaime hissed, beckoning Meredith to go on.

"I tried to get into my room through the patio-balcony thing, but the paparazzi were waiting for something to photograph, because they'd followed us from the beach to the apartment, and when they saw me they started taking pictures." Meredith's voice was beginning to shake and her eyes were beginning to grow wet. "So I jumped back inside and closed the door, and that woke him up, and he called out my name and I - I panicked." She bowed her head in shame. "I ran for here and hoped he wouldn't follow me, and then I realized I left my keys here because I thought that surely one of you had taken yours, and since I was going to you guys anyway, and then you opened the door and -"

"We're all caught up, thanks," Lauren stopped her, holding up her palm. "And you didn't keep your end of the deal?"

"What?" Meredith looked at her blankly.

"The sex bet you made. You didn't tell him who he's playing."

"N-No." Meredith's face suddenly swelled with color and her eyes swelled with tears; not only her voice, but her whole body shook. "Because this is going to fuck up everything -"

"You've already done that part," Jaime joked, and Lauren smacked her stomach to get her to shut up.

"- and I j-just… I didn't want to face it right away, s-so… I c-came home." And the tears spilled over. "Telling him only would have m-made it m-more awkward, th-though," she sputtered, and closed her eyes, hoping it would be enough to keep the drops of saltwater at bay; it wasn't, and they still stained her cheeks. Jaime went to comfort her, but Lauren grabbed her elbow and stopped her, her face completely serious.

"Why? Who's he playing?" she asked, her voice a lot softer than her facial expression.

"M-my love interest!"

Nobody stopped Jaime this time from kneeling next to Meredith and putting her arms around her - in fact, Lauren did too. They simply held the trembling, weeping girl, and when each sob tore from her throat a small part of their own self-control tore, too, and they both were blinking back tears as they whispered soft comforts.


	14. Jim

"Gina!" Meredith called, waving excitedly at her friend and co-star, who was standing by the buffet table, reading over her script. Upon hearing her name called, her head immediately lifted and a broad smile fit itself onto her face, and she began jumping up and down.

"Meredith!" she squealed, and ran at her, her blonde hair flying out behind her as she nearly tackled the brunette. "I've missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too!" Meredith said, hugging her back just as fiercely. "How was vacation?"

"Oh, it was wonderful," Gina said excitedly, releasing Meredith and giving a huge, beaming, sunny smile. "I'll have to tell you all about it, and you'll _have_ to tell me about the crash - oh, hi! are you Jaime and Lauren?" Gina's hazel eyes switched their object of interest to the two girls, who were standing awkwardly aside. "Hi, I'm Gina! It's great to be working with you!" She bounced over to them, smiling as widely as ever.

"Hi," said Lauren tentatively.

"You must be Lauren!" Gina said excitedly. "Meredith said you were the smaller one! Hi!" And she hugged Lauren quickly but tightly, completely shocking her. Meredith bit back laughter. Gina could be a bit enthusiastic.

"And then you're Jaime!" she gushed. "Oh, wow, you're so much prettier in person than the picture Meredith has of you!"

"Th-thank you," Jaime stuttered, taken by surprise. "I - you do too. Look prettier, I mean."

"Aw!" Gina squeaked, lunging forward and hugging her, too. "You're so _sweet_!"

She looked back at Meredith, her expression one of content and excitement; she looked a lot like Darren, with a silly-puppy smile and over-round eyes. "You didn't tell me they were so nice!" she accused her happily. "Where are the boys?"

"Coming," Meredith answered vaguely, feeling her stomach sink to the pit of her stomach. "They're both coming. They should be here soon."

She shared a look with Jaime and Lauren that Gina missed entirely in her anxious joy; none of the girls had a plan. Was she going to confront him? Run away?

"Oh, there they are!" Gina nearly shouted, jumping up in the air like a child getting a shitload of gifts at Christmas. She pointed to the set door, which were, indeed, opening to reveal the two boys; Dylan looked worried and a bit sick to his stomach, but relaxed. Brian's eyes landed straight on her.

Her stomach plummeted to the bottom of her shoes. She looked away quickly, fidgeting, and Lauren mouthed the word 'Run', as Gina sprinted over to them.

"Take care of Gina?" she whispered, and when Jaime nodded, she took off.

She didn't care where she was going, she knew this place like the back of her hand. She trusted her feet to take her somewhere private; she knew of dozens of hardly-occupied spots on set. As she ran, she waved and smiled and greeted people as they called to her and asked her how her summer had gone; she shouted a simple 'good' each time before returning completely to her running.

She knew where her feet were taking her! The studio exit that was near the dumpster, the one people only used to throw really smelly trash out. Nobody would bother her there -

"Meredith!"

"Jim!"

Meredith's feet would have made a screeching sound and a cloud of dust would have appeared behind her if she'd been in a cartoon. As it was, she narrowly avoided hitting Jim Parsons head-first as they both rounded the corner. The sound of the set was distant and the smell was very strong and disgusting; they were alone. "What are you doing back here?" she asked breathily, breathing slightly heavily - mostly from surprise, and anxiety, not overexercise. She'd only run from one side of the studio to the other, and it was a small studio.

"I was throwing out some moldy cheese from the fridge," he explained easily, and his blue eyes looked over her quizzically, but happily. "It's great to see you! I heard about the accident, I'm so glad you're alright." He grinned fondly down at her, his aging, kind face showing no signs of suspicion. And then, before she could respond, he hugged her. It wasn't out of the ordinary, he hugged everyone, he was just that wonderful, but she was a bit out of it, you she stiffened at his embrace.

He noticed her reluctance as she accepted the hug and pulled back immediately. "Did I do something?" he asked.

"No!" Meredith said quickly, her eyes widening as she realized he thought he was in the wrong. "Not at all, no! No, I'm just… just nervous, is all."

"About what?" he asked her, his voice fatherly and concerned, but relieved that he hadn't done anything.

"I… You don't want to know." Meredith closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. She could almost feel Brian's gaze as it searched the set for her - she was glad she was hidden.

"Yes, I do," Jim said, and he put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer, like an older brother or uncle or father might do. That's what he was like to her, a father or uncle or older brother. He was her family. "Tell me about it."

"It's so complicated," she sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"You'll find I'm good at taking the most complicated situations and giving them simple answers," he said, his voice smooth, low, like an underlying current, a thermal in the air, lifting her up comfortably. She loved Jim; being around him was like her own personal safe harbor, whereas being around Gina was like having a pet squirrel made entirely of sunshine. "Now spill."

"How's Todd?" she asked, seizing whatever opportunity she could to change the subject.

"Great," he said shortly. "Now -"

"And Marian?"

"Wonderful," he said, and his eyes lit up as they always did when talking about his daughter. "Oh, she's so adorable, I can't believe I didn't want kids before! Can you imagine that?" he shook his head at himself, transfixed in his own world. "She's already got quite a vocabulary," he told her proudly, like he was talking about a precious gem. "Her first word was 'Poppa', if you remember, and Todd and I still disagree on which one she meant - where are you going? No, you don't!" she grabbed her elbow and brought her back, a somber face staring at her meaningfully. "You almost got me," he said, giving a half-smile in appreciation of her cleverness. "But really, you can talk to me."

"It'll completely ruin your opinion of Brian," she warned him seriously.

"I doubt it," he said, cocking his head to the side a bit. "I like to form my own opinions. What did he do? Is this about the crash -"

"It's not about the fucking crash, Jim!" she snapped, and when he reeled back as if slapped, she felt immediately guilty. "I'm - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so mean." She hung her head in self-disappointment. Why couldn't she get a handle on herself?

"It's alright," he said, and there was determination in his voice that said he was still a bit hurt. "But you owe me - tell me what's wrong."

And so she did.

She spilled out the whole story - her unrequited love for Brian, their past, their present, and what she thought it meant for the future - destroying Starkid, possibly _Downpour_. She had to catch herself a few times to make sure she didn't start crying, but other than that, she rattled on and on. Jim listened with devotion and unwavering interest and care. Marian was a lucky daughter to have such amazing fathers, this one in particular.

When he was done, she gulped nervously, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat as she'd spoken. The lump that meant tears.

"Oh, Meredith," he sighed, and brought her in for another hug. She didn't fight; she hugged him back life a lifeline, grabbed him as tightly as she could and buried her face in his chest, as his neck was up too high. "Honey, you do get into the worst situations."

"I know," she muttered into his shirt, and he gave a bemused chuckle.

"Okay," he said, kissing the top of her head affectionately, "I can see why you'd think it's going to ruin things, Meredith, really, but trust me when I say if you handle a guy the right way, you can avoid ruining everything."

"Says the man who married his first-ever boyfriend," she joked pitifully, her voice muffled by his lean torso.

"That I did," he said, "so don't you think I know how to keep a relationship steady?"

"But we're not even in a relationship, Brian and I," Meredith said. He rubbed her back soothingly.

"Good point," he awarded her, and pet her hair softly. "But maybe that's a good thing."

"A good thing?" she asked, uncertain.

"You know," he said, "Sometimes when something becomes a constant part of your life, you don't necessarily become dependent on it, but start to believe it becomes dependent on you. It can go either way, really, but a lot of times it's the second and people _think_ it's the first. But when it's no longer constant, no longer there all the time, you realize it didn't need you and that hurts more than being knocked down and having to get back on your feet. When you're dependent on someone, them leaving just makes you cling harder to things that can't leave, like memories. When you think someone's dependent on you, them leaving makes you feel worthless, regretful, egotistic, and all other sort of things. That's why relationships suffer - because 'I love you' isn't just wanting them to be happy and yours, it's _needing_ them to be happy, _needing_ them to be yours. 'I love you' is constantly over-said and under-felt."

"What is the point of this?" she asked skeptically, drawing back and looking up at him.

"When you and Brian started dating, you were very, very happy. Correct?"

"Naturally," she muttered, her eyes flickering around them, very, very glad she'd thought to come an hour early to introduce everyone.

"Well, you'd been dependent on him for so long that it when it changed and you thought he might love you too, you began thinking that he was dependent on you just as you were to him, that it was mutual. You both depended on him and thought he depended on you - subconsciously, of course. So, when you broke up, you both clung to memories and felt like nobody needed or would ever want you. You still do it, Meredith."

"I'm not worthless," she said, a bit miffed he'd suggest it. "I'm not useless, useless people don't get used."

Jim looked at her, and it wasn't until his crestfallen face registered in her mind did she realize what she'd just said.

"You feel used," Jim whispered to her, like he was holding a newborn. "You were used, but he didn't mean to use you, Meredith. You clinging to your memories made it easy for you to live in them; that's why you don't think his feelings could have possibly changed for you, that it'll always be strictly friendship. You living in your memories in this way means that whatever bad things you feel about yourself open up around him, and you strive for approval, but you also think he's lying when he compliments you. You're an unwilling masochist - you love it when he says nice things, but you also think he's lying. But then, you know he's not a liar, so you feel bad for thinking it. And the whole things just really confuses you."

She didn't know what to say. Any previous over-analytical thing she'd ever heard was nothing to this; this was truth, stripped right down to its core, and it terrified her.

"Meredith," he said, and smiled at her in a way only family can, "I think that if you just stopped living in these memories and focused on what the long-term results of the present situation might be, you'll find an answer."

"How do I do that?" she said, attempting to speak out loud, but the huge lump in her throat made her voice hoarse, scratchy.

"It's easier than you think," he said, petting her hair again. "Just don't deny his compliments, but never take them for granted, and compliment him back. That's the simple way to move past this painful stage."

"So I won't hurt like this forever?" she choked.

"No, of course not," he said gently, and held her again as she took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. "I love you," he reminded her.

"I love you too," she said.

"So you're Brian Holden."

Brian nearly jumped out of his skin. Nobody seemed to have seen Meredith for a little under forty-five minutes, and he'd been scanning the set for her forever. Had she left? But he whirled around and saw the lean man whom he'd always admired smiling pleasantly at him. His brown hair was styled as usual, his blue eyes inviting - he looked like an older version of Brian. "Jim Parsons," he said, intimidated by the man.

"Hello," he said, holding out his hand. "You've met everyone, I assume?"

"All but you," he said, shaking his hand. His grip was a bit colder than Brian's, but nowhere near clammy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, his grin benign. "Meredith is constantly singing your praises, and I loved you as Junior is _Starship_."

"You've seen Starship?" he asked, momentarily distracted from Meredith's name.

"I've seen all Starkid productions," he said seriously. "You're one talented group of friends."

"Family," Brian corrected. "We're family."

"We're family over here, too," Jim said, his smile growing impossibly wider as Brian corrected him with a better term. "Gina, Meredith, Kendall, Silas and I are all one big family."

"Not as big as Starkid," Brian commented, smiling back at the man. He was truthfully very easy to be around.

"Nowhere near as big," Jim conceded. He looked over at Lauren, who was talking animatedly to Silas, and Jaime and Gina, who were talking about something or other like it was the ground they walked on, and Dylan and Kendall, who were just sipping Sprites and pointing at things lazily. Yep, the cast was definitely a big family; bigger, much bigger, now that it had some more Starkids. "But hopefully a lot more complicated."

"What?" Brian was confused. "Why would you want it to be complicated?"

"I don't want it to be," he said, looking at him not in a condescending way, but in an explanatory and apologetic one. "But as of last night, I really hope Starkid was never screwed over this badly."

"Last night?" Brian asked, panic rising in his chest. He couldn't possibly _know_…

"Meredith is like my daughter," Jim continued, his tone conversational, his words so much more. "I'd like to think of you as a son, but equals with authority and respect. I won't be degrading, you won't be rebellious, and you can come to me with any problems you have. Alright?"

"Sir, you don't… you can't…" Brian didn't think he could make himself ask it.

"You can call me Jim," he offered easily.

"How… what do you… what do you know…"

"About you and Meredith?" He smiled reassuringly, but his next sentence freaked Brian out to no end: "Everything."

"Ev - every…" Brian's mind was beginning to slip. He paled.

"Relax," said Jim seriously, placing his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "She told me less than -" he glanced at the clock on the wall behind them. "Wow, was it really that long? Forty-five minutes ago."

"Wh… why..?"

"Because she was distraught and I offered her assistance." Jim looked at him, concerned, but continued. "I had to force it out of her, Brian. She didn't want to tell, but she needed to be told." He appraised him, worried. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Well," Brian said, forcing himself to let go of the breath he'd unknowingly kept inside, "That's one way to make a friend. 'Hey, I know all about the mistakes you've made and what a bad person you've been on accident, and it's totally fine because I'm so kind I'm just gonna help you out here' does a bit more than just 'hello'."

Jim smirked, relieved. "That is does," he agreed. "Does this mean we can skip the awkward part and go right to calling each other stupid and inoffensive names?"

"Sounds about right," Brian said, leaning back on the wall. His mind was panicking and his heart was racing but he forced himself to act calm - acting was what had gotten him into the situation, it'd get him out. "Shall I call you 'Gym Sock'?"

"Nice," Jim said, and chortled appreciatively. "What can I call you, Bagel?"

"Bagel?" Brian asked skeptically.

"Because a lot of girls online call you 'B-Hol', to shorten your name. And 'bagel' sounds a bit like it."

"So my new name is Bagel?" he asked, amused and biting back a laugh that threatened to clear his head of all the information he was trying to process.

"You can be an Everything Bagel or a Plain Bagel," Jim said, smirking at him playfully. "They're my two favorite kinds," he explained.

"There's quite a difference between those two, _Gym Sock_."

Jim laughed, and Brian couldn't help joining in - his laugh was contagious. As he chuckled and guffawed with his new co-star, his mind settled a bit.

And then he froze.

"Where's Meredith?" he asked abruptly, and Jim stopped laughing just as suddenly. Brian's mind was still clicking into place, still registering every small bit, but the big picture had sunk in.

"Don't go after her," Jim said, his face and tone somber. "Not now. Wait until we've gotten through the first take, if you have a presenting opportunity. Don't seek her out, but don't ignore her."

"Why?"

"Trust me," Jim told him, his blue eyes open and honest, "It's what's best."


	15. Party

Meredith had never been happier to rehearse something. To slip into someone else's life, someone else's problems, to get away from your own. With how much she ran away from her problems, she could be an Olympist. She was extraordinarily glad to be able to just transform into Rill at the moment. She held her script in her hand but didn't really need it; she'd memorized her lines weeks ago. Brian, Dylan, Jaime and Lauren, however, were all reading theirs fiercely, hoping to remember at least some of it. They wanted to make a good impression.

"Silas," Meredith said, elbowing her co-worker to gain his attention, "What do you think of them?"

"They're nice people," he said, looking over at the ones she was talking about. "They're good actors. They can sing." He turned and grinned at her, his jaw protruding out slightly as he did so, the stubble on it having no effect on her like it did on the fangirls. "Sounds like I'm talking about replicates of you."

"Oh, shush," she said, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder gently.

"Okay!" Jo called out, clapping her hands to get their attention. "Everyone ready for rehearsal?"

A cheer went up from the cast.

"Good, now everyone take your places. Okay, now," said she, turning to the newbies with her full-on director face. "Brian and Jaime, you two are off to stage left, and Lauren, you're off to stage right - Dylan, you're back there, behind Kendall. Try not to make yourself seen, your character is just trying to blend in."

They all nodded after receiving their instructions and went off to their places; Meredith walked to stage right, but stayed on the set. Silas moved right behind her.

"Ready?" Jo called again.

"Ready," Meredith called out, speaking for everyone.

"Action!"

"Alright, guys," said Jo, looking very pleased. "That was great, really great. Wonderful work for today, I'm very proud of you. Especially you four," she said, pointing to Lauren, Jaime, Dylan and Brian, who all looked modestly but very pleased with themselves. "You'll fit in just fine, I think. Alright, now - ya'll can go home!"

Meredith ran over to Jim and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back. "You've got to come over," she told him, "It's been so long since we hung out."

"I'll come if the others can come," he said, smiling at her. "Heck, I'll even drive the others."

"That'd be great!" Meredith enthused, grinning at him childishly. "And we can have all my friends come over, and they can meet you - oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"This is going to be crowded," he noted, and she giggled. A day at work always made her feel better; the cast was great, the writing was great, the crew was great; the whole atmosphere was just great.

"Should I go invite the others?" she asked him.

"Naturally," he said. "I'll handle the newbies."

"You always do," she smirked. Jim had a thing for befriending the new people and making them feel welcome. She spotted Silas over at the buffet table and waved a temporary goodbye to Jim, heading over to him, plans for the evening already forming in her mind. "Silas!"

Meredith hadn't turned the music on, but someone must have. Someone else must have turned the TV on. And everyone was talking loudly, excitedly. A lot of people were dancing, a lot of people were laughing. Her apartment was chock-full of all her favorite people. She saw Jim talking with Denise, and thought to herself that she thought those two might get along; Kendall and Dylan were making up a handshake, surrounded by some Starkids. Gina was talking to Walker and Joey and Jaime had disappeared somewhere. Silas was chatting to Lauren again, and making her laugh. Bodies moved, voices rose, and if they hadn't all been too excited to drink, she was sure they'd have found the wine in her cupboard before she'd locked it just moments ago. _Nobody_ was drinking tonight, she had gone to work with enough of a hangover already. She grinned at the scene. It was a good party. But… her eyes swiveled over the party. Where was Brian?

"Hey!" Julia said, bounding up to her happily.

"Hi," Meredith said, smiling at her. "How's my favorite little mature adult?" and she hugged her when she laughed off the compliment.

"Your co-stars are so awesome!" Julia said, nearly jumping up and down from excitement. "I really like Jim, he's so nice!"

"Everyone else is, too," she said. "And you already know almost half my co-stars now."

"Yeah…" Julia said, and trailed off for a moment. "Where are Bud and Kennedy?"

"Oh, shit!" Meredith grabbed into her pocket for her phone. "They didn't have to come to work today, they weren't in the scenes we were shooting, I forgot to call them!"

"No wonder they aren't here!" Julia exclaimed. "I mean, really, I thought they just didn't want to meet us!"

"Don't be ridiculous, they'll love you," Meredith said, dialing Bud's number and holding the phone to her ear while Julia went off to tell people that there were more coming.

Brian knew he shouldn't be in Meredith's room, but it was the room closest to the party, therefore the easiest to escape into. He could still here the music being loud and the TV being ignored and the people yelling and laughing, but he just wanted some quiet.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to Meredith's dresser. He thought about last night, he thought about his poor choices. He thought about how he'd tried to weasel both a love confession and his character out of her. He thought about how stupid he was to have tried using alcohol to do that. He should have known it would have ended badly. Why hadn't he just confronted her? Why hadn't he just told her that he heard her conversation with Joey? Why hadn't he just said that he liked her? Because he was scared? Because it was easier to hide behind a haze of drunken mistakes than to face her outright and say 'I don't love you yet, but I could if we'd try again'. Because he was such an idiot, he had made a sex bet with her, and he had won - but he didn't even want his prize when he'd woken up, because she'd been running away. Meredith Stepien, scared, hurt - abused. By him. And she'd run away, near tears, like he was the ghost of her Aunt Miranda or something.

His arms were folded across his chest tightly, like he was holding on to himself; he dropped them, and his arm brushed something on top of the dresser when it fell. He opened his eyes to make sure he hadn't knocked it over, whatever it was.

It was a picture of him and Ali.

He blinked. Yes, that was the one almost on the edge, it must have been the one he touched. It sat next to pictures of the other Starkids; Meredith and Elona and Lauren in one, Jaime, Darren, Joey, Walker, Moses and Dylan in another, and the rest of them in yet another; but he and Ali had one frame all to themselves. They were smiling, laughing, posing in silly ways for the camera - Brian had duck lips and crossed eyes, and Ali had puffed her cheeks and was pulling her ears out like the swinging stop signs on buses. They looked so happy…

_ "But I didn't have the words he needed to hear or that arms that he needed to hold him, and she did. And she made him happy, she made him glad. The first part of loving someone isn't wanting them to be yours and only yours - that's the second part. The first part is wanting them to be happy. To feel like they're worth feeling happy. To just be joyful all the time, and if you can't do it for them, finding them someone that can should make you proud of them. Ali was a nice girl who deserved someone like Brian, and though I maintain he deserves someone better than any God could create, he was glad when he was with her."_

Brian remembered how Meredith had spoken with such sincerity to Joey that day, how she'd sat there, crying, even after he left, because she felt so terrible. He remembered how he'd had to refrain from comforting her because she a.) wouldn't accept his comfort and probably would have run away, and b.) thought he was asleep. He remembered having to lie still and keep his heartbeat under control; he remembered having to act like a different person to keep the monitor from the steady beep of a sleeping person's pulse to a horse in the Kentucky Derby.

He remembered how, when he'd opened his eyes, Meredith had had her head down in her arms on his bed right beside him, and had been whispering, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"

He picked up the frame tenderly and looked at the picture.

_"She made him happy in a way I never could, and seeing him happy made me happy."_

_"So seeing him hug her, or kiss her, or laugh with her - it didn't hurt?" he demanded, irritated at how he couldn't comprehend._

_The air drained of sound as his face drained of color at the murderous scowl on her face. "You think it didn't hurt?" she mouthed, and he didn't need the words spoken to understand them. He flinched at the malice in her voice. "You think that every time he put his lips to hers instead of mine, it didn't rip my heart out? You think every time he held her instead of me, it didn't twist my lungs until I couldn't breathe? You think every time he said the words to her that I wanted to say to him, it didn't stick a spear through me and pin me to a wall of knives?"_

_"That's a bit morbid for you," Joey said, his voice barely comprehensible even to him. She appeared not to hear him at all._

_"You're wrong. It hurt like fucking hell." Her stare lost some of its malevolence and gained a look of wistful sorrow he'd only ever read about in books._

But Meredith could make him happy, happier than anyone else. She did already. Being around her, talking to her, laughing with her. It made him happy. Happier than he'd been with Ali. Had he ruined that with one night of idiocy?

He gave a start and nearly dropped the picture. Someone was coming into the room.

Just as he was about to put the picture back, the door opened and Meredith came in, her back to him. She closed the door and he realized she was on her cellphone; she'd probably come in here to get away from the noise out there that was a lot more distant when she closed the door.

"Yeah, of course," she said into her phone. "Everyone's here, I just completely forgot about you guys - I do not do it often!" she defended herself jokingly. "Is Kennedy there? Can you tell her?" a short pause. "Thank you _so_ much. I'll see you soon. Okay, bye!" And she took the phone away from her ear and pressed the _End_ button, sighing and turning to her bed, throwing her phone onto it, which meant that out of the corner of her eye she saw -

"_Brian_!"


	16. Revelation

Meredith jumped almost ten feet into the air - or, at least, it felt like it. She felt her heart leap to her throat at the sight of him in her room, and what was he holding? It… oh, God, he'd gotten the picture of him and Ali off of her dresser. Her hand had jumped to her chest automatically, like it could calm her heart down. "What - what are you doing in here?" she demanded.

"Getting away from the party," he said, placing the picture back on the dresser, ashamed of himself. It looked like he'd been snooping and waiting for her. Those weren't his intentions at all. He decided to be honest; no need to dig himself further into a hole.

"Wh… why?" she still was not comfortable, at all, being in the same room with him… alone. She didn't relax her pose, she didn't change her expression.

"It was loud, and I needed to think." Oh, God, in his head it had sounded fine! Her jaw went slack and he realized how it sounded. He rushed to correct himself. "No, no, I mean, it wasn't about that - well, it was about that, but not… not _like_ that, it… erm, I just…" how could he describe it? Could he say he was being regretful, or would that sound bad? It would sound fine and it was the truth, he decided. "I was regretting last night - motherf-!" It had come out sounding like the worst thing possible. Her jaw snapped shut and her eyes filled with fire.

"If you regret it so much, _get_. _Out_," she hissed, and the vehemence in it make him look at her in a whole new light. she was furious, confused, uncertain… and there, underlying it all, was fear. He almost pitied her, but he was a bit busy trying to fix his blunder.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I was… I'm sorry I took advantage of you," he said, and she stopped in her tracks, her eyes going a bit wide. Her shoulders slumped just a little bit. He was pleased with himself, that had sounded good both in his head and out loud. "I mean, when I heard you talking to Joey, I -"

"You what?"

The words were whispered, barely even spoken, mostly mouthed. But Meredith's entire demeanor had changed; she was now both horrified, embarrassed and highly, highly upset. Brian's face drained of color as her cheeks flushed red. "I, I -"

"You heard… ev-… everything?" she wisped.

"I… most of it, I think," he admitted sheepishly, his voice growing small, too.

"Y-…" Meredith was speechless. Both people were frozen statues of tension, both were aggravated and both were almost dying of anxiety.

"I know this ruins everything," Brian said, clearing his throat. Meredith didn't move but for her eyes, which were locked on his face, searching for any indication that he was lying. "But, um… it… um…" What was he going to say? "Well, I, uh… we can, um, we can get through it," he said weakly, and took a step forward. She didn't respond whatsoever. "It, uh, might take a while, but I… um, I just don't… don't think it's, um, a good idea to just -"

Meredith had finally reacted. She straightened up stiffly, her arms dangling at her sides like overused string, and she'd made an involuntary noise similar to that of someone screaming while drowning and then being cut off. It was a sound of someone being burned at the stake. Her face was tormented, her voice wrung out. What had he said? He felt not only guilt, but a pain somewhere in his chest when he saw her like that. Without thinking, he reached out a hand so he could comfort her, but she shook her head as if terrified of touching him, and nearly fell backwards into the wall, managing to stay on her feet as her back and head thudded against it. "Meredith?" he said tentatively, her name sitting on his tongue like it was its home. "Mere?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't get it out; her eyes rolled upward so she was staring at the ceiling. Those same eyes couldn't even grow warm, couldn't even cry; there are times when you're beyond tears.

She closed her mouth and opened it again, trying once more, but she failed to speak; all she released was a sound similar to that of both a choke and a whimper.

"Stop it," he said suddenly, and even he didn't know where it came from, but it was a mix between a command and begging. "Stop it right now, Mere. You're going to be fine."

_You can't know that_, teased a voice in his head.

"F-Fine?" She sounded like she was asking permission to stop being brutally murdered. Brian felt like he'd been punched in the gut - he had caused this.

"Fine," he assured her, and decided it was safe to take a step closer. But as soon as he did, she whipped her head down and pressed herself against the wall, as far away from him as possible.

"Don't touch me," she whimpered, and though she tried to make herself sound and look like she wasn't affected, she was horrified and pleading with him not to get closer. "I can't take it."

"Can't take _what_?" he asked desperately, despising seeing her like this.

She didn't know what and she didn't know how too say it. She looked at him, his blue eyes having no idea what agony he was causing her right now. Her stomach had tightened into a very uncomfortable, very painful ball of anxiety and rejection and realization and, worst yet, belief. Belief because there was no way he was lying about this. He regretted last night, he didn't want her, he wouldn't ever want her. She'd subconsciously built everything into him. He'd been her safety tower, even though she'd tried to build on something else; but Brian had had a foundation ready and no wrecking ball except that same foundation could have torn down the tower she'd built on him. She'd built it with trust, with friendship, with love, with history. And in the middle of the tower she'd kept her heart, sometimes beating, sometimes not, but mostly being twisted and yanked and abused because she'd built the tower so poorly. And now the foundation hadn't just cracked, it'd slid almost in half, and her tower had come crumbling down, her heart buried in the very center of it, almost dead but barely throbbing, because it had to get blood to her body so her nerves could make her feel the most intense pain possible.

Brian was so very confused. What could he say, why had what he'd said hurt her so badly? Why was she looking at him like he'd just stabbed her mother? _Why_ was she hurting? "I _hate_ it when you're hurt," he said, before being able to stop himself.

"Then s-stop hurting me," she said, with the voice of an angel being told she belonged in hell. It was warped to fit the despair she was obviously feeling, and he looked at her eyes. Her eyes had the most complex pool of emotions buried in them, buried deep, but they weren't wet. She was strong. Or maybe she was just so injured she couldn't cry. Maybe she'd already cried herself out over him. The thought made him cringe.

"You said you couldn't make me happy," he said, trying his best to comfort her, because he'd be damned if he could stay dry-eyed for another minute of her in this state. "You do make me happy, happier than anyone else. When I'm with you, I'm all fuzzy-minded and stupid and happy! And that's a great feeling, because you're one of my best friends, but knowing that you have this kind of… of love for me, if threw me off. I wasn't ready to know that because I didn't…" he stopped, his eyes going wide and his heart stopping as he realized what he had been about to say.

_I wasn't ready to know that because I didn't want to know that that's how I've felt for you, too, and I've just been too fucking dumb to know it, and I didn't want to make myself dumb when you were near, because I love you and wanted you to see me as worthy of you…_

That was the sentence he'd had about to slip off his tongue before he caught it, and all he could do was stare at her. _And their eyes met. Hers were golden-brown, tawny and warm, insightful and still confused. Like pools of copper, they glinted with the light from the stars above them. But they were like copper behind a foggy window - not diluted, just a bit smoky, mysterious. As stunning as the last time he'd looked into them like this. _She _was stunning._

She was stunning.

She was lovely, and he loved her.

"Oh, my…" Brian couldn't even finish his sentence. Meredith had changed during his monologue, and was gazing at him in hopeful disbelief; she looked like she'd just escaped horrible torture and was being treated royally, but didn't think she deserved it. "I… I think…"

Her eyes asked what her mouth couldn't.

"I think I love you, Mere."


	17. Think

"You _ran_ _away_?"

"Yes."

Meredith was looking down at her feet as she sat in her chair, and both Jaime and Lauren could see that she wasn't happy with herself. "Why?" Lauren asked. "And… but where did you run _to_? Nobody saw you after you went into your room."

"I ran onto the balcony," she said, "And into his room, then out of his apartment, and I took the elevator to the top floor, and went to the roof."

"But why did you run away?" Lauren persisted, obviously not understanding. Jaime was still sitting there, trying to organize her thoughts - everything was so confusing.

"I don't…" Meredith started, and began twirling her right ankle nervously, staring at it so as to not make eye contact. "I don't think he meant it. Well, I think he meant it, but I don't think it's true."

Lauren blinked a couple times. "What?"

"I…" Meredith switched ankles. "Well, I was… in a kind of state that… he didn't like it much, he wanted to comfort me, and… I think he either said it because he knew it had the best chance of making me feel better, or he was kidding himself."

"Wh…" Lauren didn't know which question to ask. "Why do you think he'd be kidding himself?"

Meredith switched ankles again. "If it took him nearly six years to realize he has feelings for me, I think it was just overexposure to me. He'd heard my confession, and it made him think he had feelings in return, because he didn't want to insult me by not feeling anything back. It's the power of suggestion."

"You're an idiot," said Jaime, speaking up for the first time. "So, he finally says to you what you've wanted him to say to you for years, and you don't believe it simply because it took him years to say?"

"That about sums it up," Meredith said, nodding once but keeping her eyes firmly on her twisting ankle.

"Dude," Lauren groaned, falling back. "You're so _stupid_."

"I'm not," said Meredith, getting defensive and finally looking up. "I'm just not risking a broken heart, like last time."

"Okay, so maybe he didn't mean it yet," said Jaime, "But if you gave him a chance, in due time, he could."

"If it hasn't happened by now, I doubt it ever will," she said, shaking her head and rising to her feet. "I'm going to bed."

_His arms locked themselves around her, clutching her close to him, and she clutched him right back. Her hands intertwined themselves on his back as she pulled him in as tightly as she could. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and he relaxed his own head onto hers gently, smelling her wavy, slightly-frizzy, beautiful hair. He felt the flushed skin of her cheek press against his neck, and her touch both electrified the blood that went pulsing throughout his body and soothed the nerves that churned in his stomach. Her smell dissipated the anxiety that had fogged his mind; she both set his heart to racing and his mind at ease. It was always a state of comfortable excitement when he was as close to her as he was. The snaps and flashes of the cameras faded, the entirely-too-loud shouted questions dissipated, and it was just he and her. He was pleased to find out that even after so many months, she still felt familiar in his arms._

_…_

_The truth was, Brian wasn't really interested in Gina at all, she was just the first cast member name that had popped into his head. How could he be, when Meredith Stepien, his long-time friend and co-worker, one of the most kind and beautiful women to ever exist, was standing right next to him?_

_…_

_"That's beautiful, Mere," Jaime said, her voice barely above a whisper._

_"Yes, she is," Brian murmured tenderly._

_…_

_Brian smirked, but it was friendly and true. "Angels fall silent when you're present in respect."_

_The blush he loved crept up into her cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous."_

_"You're being ridiculous," he said, shaking his head at her._

_"Why can't you believe it?"_

_"Because you're not falling silent."_

_…_

_But Meredith could make him happy, happier than anyone else. She did already. Being around her, talking to her, laughing with her. It made him happy. Happier than he'd been with Ali. Had he ruined that with one night of idiocy?_

_…_

_"You said you couldn't make me happy," he said, trying his best to comfort her, because he'd be damned if he could stay dry-eyed for another minute of her in this state. "You do make me happy, happier than anyone else. When I'm with you, I'm all fuzzy-minded and stupid and happy! And that's a great feeling, because you're one of my best friends, but knowing that you have this kind of… of love for me, if threw me off. I wasn't ready to know that because I didn't…" he stopped, his eyes going wide and his heart stopping as he realized what he had been about to say._

I wasn't ready to know that because I didn't want to know that that's how I've felt for you, too, and I've just been too fucking dumb to know it, and I didn't want to make myself dumb when you were near, because I love you and wanted you to see me as worthy of you…

_That was the sentence he'd had about to slip off his tongue before he caught it, and all he could do was stare at her. And their eyes met. Hers were golden-brown, tawny and warm, insightful and still confused. Like pools of copper, they glinted with the light from the stars above them. But they were like copper behind a foggy window - not diluted, just a bit smoky, mysterious. As stunning as the last time he'd looked into them like this. She was stunning._

_She was stunning._

_She was lovely, and he loved her._

He rolled over in his bed uncomfortably; even with his eyes closed, sleep would not come.

Why was it every time he did something wrong, he'd either be clueless or embarrassed, and when he did something right, she ran away? Emotions can be scary things, that he knew - the anxiety of where Meredith was was nearly making him hop out of bed to look for her. But he was probably the last person she'd want to see. He was the one that had sent her hiding.

He rolled onto his back, incapable of being comfortable. He made himself keep his eyes closed and stay still. Seriously, what was wrong with him? Why had it taken him so many years to realize his feelings - and why had she..?

_His eyes - god, how to describe his eyes! Magnificent swirling pools of piercing blue; vibrant blue; sharpened sky-blue. They were wide with some realization she didn't share, alive with a wonder she couldn't behold. The way his eyes seemed to be staring at hers, not in hers, like she was something to appreciate but not totally worship, was lovely; her heart melted and created a pulsing lagoon, in which she'd had swam all day. And she wondered if he noticed how close he was getting. His shoulder was almost touching hers, as it was, and his head had been near hers to begin with. But she could feel the cold, sweet scent of his breath washing over her face in gentle breezes, trickling and caressing her cheeks and nose like snowflakes. His nose was about to brush hers, and his mesmerizing eyes grew even more enticing the closer they got -_

_No, no! Not again!_

_"Good night, Brian," she said quickly, and darted inside as fast as she could, trying not to slam into the glass she only just managed to fling open in time._

_Her heart was not a lagoon any more - it was a full-blown ocean, the pulsing having spread through her entire body, wracking her into nervous shivers, making her throb._

_…_

_Her hands were growing sweaty. Why was she so nervous? All she'd done was explain a sad song. But her eyes were as wet and warm as her palms. She repositioned her left hand on the wheel to a cooler, non-sticky place, and put her right on the little CD cubby that was in the middle of her seat and Brian's, only to discover that his arm was already there. she looked down quickly, and saw that hers was resting on the other side of his, both of their fingers curled._

_She watched through the silence as he moved his fingers in between hers and grabbed her hand softly._

_Though every single part of her screamed of joy at his touch, from the butterflies in her stomach to the calmed tempest that raged through her veins, her mind warned her that too much contact would be hurtful, dangerous to her, even. But she completely ignored and squeezed him comforting, warm, familiar hand tightly, and smiled gently at his matching squeeze back._

_…_

_"But why didn't you take him, if you really love him so much?"_

_Meredith shook her head again. "You want me to have stopped making him happy? You want me to have taken away the ecstasy he felt when he was with her? You want me to have ruined a good portion of his life because of my petty desires?" She clenched her fist. "No. Never."_

_…_

_His hand was holding her face as gently and tenderly as it possibly could. Without putting any thought into the action, she closed her eyes and let his hand support her face, raising her own to cover it. He was warm, not sticky, but warm, and where he touched her she felt jolts of electricity float through her skin and tangle themselves in her stomach, but his other fingers tucking a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear calmed the stirring anxiety. She was comfortable and flattered but mostly, just free._

_Free in her desire, free in her wants, free in her needs. She didn't have to think about keeping the secret from him; she didn't have to worry about him not returning it. For the moment, everything was easy and simple and _free_._

_…_

_"I think I love you, Mere."_

Meredith was curled into a loose fetal position on her bed, one hand beneath her pillow and one resting near her face. The blankets covered her from the shoulders on down, and she was warm. Very warm. And comfortable. But at the same time, ashamed of herself. Very ashamed. Disappointed. Upset. Angry. It certainly hadn't been Brian's fault, but she wasn't going to believe lies again just because she wanted them to be true. Maybe he hadn't been purposefully lying, but if it had taken him that long to know he loved her, the possibilities of it being real were very, very slim. And she didn't believe it.


	18. Back

Thursday passed, and every time Brian tried to catch her eye, she'd turn away. Every time he'd call her name in the hallway, she'd ignore him and disappear somewhere. Every time he tried to talk to her at work, she mumbled something incomprehensible and slipped away. She was purposefully avoiding him, and he knew it. Everyone knew it. Jim picked up on it when they arrived at the set the next day, and he disappeared after Meredith, and when he returned, he'd gone straight to Brian, grim-faced. But he hadn't confronted him as Brian thought he was going to; he'd simply struck up casual conversation.

Friday passed much as Thursday had. Meredith avoided all contact with him completely, and though suspicions began to form in his mind as to why, they remained lost bits of dialogue and vague plot points, and he ignored them like she ignored him.

Saturday passed the same as Friday, but for the lack of work

Sunday passed the same as Saturday.

Monday arrived, and he didn't have to go in to work, but the girls did. Dylan and he played checkers and visited the others, who had noticed something was wrong, but when given no answer, left the subject alone.

Tuesday came, and everyone was needed on set, and all of their friends were allowed to visit. There were so many people, any chance at speaking to Meredith was lost, but for the scenes they were shooting - and that was different; he was talking to Rill, not Meredith; as Seamus, not Brian.

But on Wednesday, Meredith was shooting the last scene with just herself and Bud (a co-worker they'd met at the party, who was very into football) and all the others were just sitting at home. Brian wanted answers to the scenarios and possibilities that, by now, ran rampant in his head; and he knew just the girls for it.

His fist rapped on their door, and about a twenty seconds later, Lauren swung the door open. "Brian," she said, confused. "Why are you here? Where's Dylan?"

"Sleeping," he said honestly. He'd purposely shut off Dylan's alarm clock, and he was still sleeping soundly. It was, after all, only ten in the morning. "May I come in?"

" 'Course," she said, and stepped aside so he could enter.

"Hi, Jaime," said Brian, seeing Jaime's head of hair on the couch. It turned and her face was revealed. She looked surprised, but happy, to see him.

"Brian," she greeted. "Do you need something?"

"Yes, actually," he said, and made to sit down in the chair. Lauren closed the door and followed him, jumping up to the arm of the chair he was in before he laid his arm on it.

"It's about Meredith," Jaime guessed. She had a blanket on top of her and the television remote in her hand. She quickly turned it off - she'd been watching _Peneviere_, how cute, he saw Meredith's face on screen and his stomach churned - and turned to him. He nodded.

"So… I don't know if she told you guys -" he started, making his hands into a temple and then sliding his fingers into the slots between the others, fiddling with his thumbs.

"We know," said Lauren.

"You know?" he looked up at her. He'd expected something, like maybe 'She told us something was up'. But this was a generalization. "How much?"

"Everything," Jaime said, smiling at him comfortingly. "I've known since her second month here."

"I've known since my second week here," Lauren said, somewhat bitter.

"So… you guys know we… that, I -"

"Yes," Jaime cut him off. "We had placed bets on when you'd talk to us about it. Pay up," she told Lauren, and held out her hand.

Lauren wrinkled her nose. "I'll go get your money," she sighed, and hopped off the chair, walking leisurely out of sight.

"So…" Brian didn't know where to go from here. Not explaining everything made things so much easier, and they seemed not to judge him for it. "I fucked up big time, huh?"

"Yep," said Jaime, becoming a lot more cheerful when Lauren came back with a five-dollar bill in her hand.

"You couldn't have held off one more day, at least?" she muttered in his direction. Lauren handed Jaime her money and then sat at her feet on the couch.

"So, I… do you guys know why she's ignoring me?" he asked, trying to cover up the genuine desperation with a playful smirk - it came out as a grimace.

"She's an idiot," Lauren supplied.

"Completely bonkers," said Jaime helpfully.

"Guys," he said, exasperated. "C'mon, I'm serious."

"Okay, fine." Jaime sighed. "She thinks you don't really love her, and to 'protect' both of you, she's distancing herself."

Brian looked at her in shock. "Why… why does she think I don't love her?"

"Because 'he never did before'," said Lauren, imitating Meredith in a high voice she didn't have. "She thinks that if you dumped her once, you'd do it again."

"I wouldn't, I didn't want to the first time!" he exclaimed, the desperation breaking through and grabbing hold. "She was getting hate mail, I didn't want her to get hate because of me -"

"We know, sweetie," said Jaime gently. "We know you love her - we knew you loved her before you did."

Brian's fingers were white as they clutched the seat's arms, and his eyes still flickered between them nervously. "What can I do?"

"Aha!" Jaime shouted suddenly, grinning at Lauren again. "Pay up again!"

"Damn it," Lauren snapped with no real anger. "Seriously, why couldn't you have come up with an idea for yourself?" She shook her head, but a smile peeked through as she went for more money.

"So, here's the plan," said Jaime, leaning forward secretively, a goofy smile on her face. Brian leaned forward out of instinct. "Do you know how to get to the roof?"

"Uh, I think so," he said. "When Mere gave us the tour the first time we visited her, she took us to the top floor and then there was a staircase in the hall that led to the roof. Right?"

"Good boy," she said, like he was a puppy. "So, you set up a whole romantic dinner up there. Like, steak and ice cream and candles. And bring flowers. Do you know her favorite kind?"

"Snapdragons," he said without hesitating. "Those are her favorite."

Jaime's smile shrunk, but grew more meaningful, more compact. "Wow."

"What?" asked Lauren, coming back and begrudgingly handing over another five before sitting again.

"He really does love her," Jaime said, inclining her head towards him.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Yeah. We know. So, have far have you gotten?"

"Flowers," Jaime told her.

"Ah," she said understanding. "Go on."

"How much time have you had to think about this?" Brian asked them.

"All week," said Jaime. "So, bring flowers, and then we'll get her up onto the roof."

"How?" he was skeptical.

"We have our ways," said Lauren, with a devilish grin.

Before he could reply, Jaime continued. "And then you proceed to have a lovely date, where you mention nothing about the sex or the little 'I think I love you' -"

"Have I mentioned how cute that is?" Lauren interrupted.

Brian blushed, and looked at his shoes.

"- but if she asks about either, be prepared to answer all questions honestly _but_ do not go on speeches, give short, honest answers."

"Uh…" Brian blinked a couple times. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Got that?" Lauren said, clarifying.

"I think so," he said. "Steak, ice cream, candles, snap dragons, date, short but honest answers. That sum it up well?"

"Alright!" crowed Jaime, pumping her fist in the air. "And we're back in business!"


	19. Kiss

"Where are we going?" Meredith asked again, amused, as Lauren pulled her along the highest hallway in the building.

"The roof!" Lauren said, finally answering the question she'd been asking since they got in the elevator.

"Why?" Meredith would have raised an eyebrow if she hadn't been running to keep up the petite girl who was almost literally dragging her behind, and therefore out of breath.

"You'll see!"

They reached the door that they knew opened to the steps that led to the roof; Lauren flung it open, and then, in a turn of events that left Meredith baffled, pushed her through. "Lauren?" she asked, turning around just in time to see her laughing friend shut the door - it took her a moment to realize what was going on, and during that moment, she heard Lauren call for Jaime. "Lauren!" she said angrily, grabbing the knob and trying to turn it, and failing. Lauren had it in her hand, and for someone so small, she was strong. And then she heard Jaime's giggle, and she rattled the knob uselessly, because Jaime was pressing against the door. "What the hell?" she shouted at them, giving up and getting angry.

"Meredith," called a voice from a couple feet away.

She froze.

The night air was chilly, cold, which was odd for L.A. There was a breeze that only made it colder. The stars were glinting down at them like they had for almost two weeks now, and the sounds of car horns and laughter from the streets below wafted to her ears. She nearly shivered from the cold; she was wearing only a tank top and jeans. She turned around slowly, and there he was, at the top of the stairs, his jacket and hair being ruffled by the wind. He smiled at her tentatively. "Hi," he said.

It took her a moment to decide which course of action she should take. "Hi."

He smiled with less hesitance as she responded to him. "Care to come up?" he asked her.

"I…" again, she considered. "Fine."

He extended his hand to help her climb the stairs, but she ignored it and walked past him until she was on the top. She stopped and stared. "What's this?" she asked.

"This," he said, gesturing to it with the hand he'd had extended, to make it seem like that was his original intent, "is a date."

There was a circular table about ten feet away, and in the center was an empty glass vase. There were two chairs on opposite sides of it, and on one, there was a bit of color on the seat that she couldn't quite make out. In front of each chair there was a plate with a steak on it - she noticed hers was medium-rare, and a blush almost rose to her cheeks at his remembrance of her preference - and to the side of the plate there was a small dish of Chocolate-Chip Raspberry ice cream. She smiled a small smile - he even remembered her favorite ice cream. There was a small stump of a candle flickering by the vase, the wind almost putting it out, but at the same time making it stronger with the increased oxygen.

"Don't you usually ask someone if they want to go on a date first?" she said, amused despite herself.

"Usually," he said. "But I think our circumstances called for something a bit weirder." And with that, he almost pranced to her seat, the one with no color, with nervous excitement and pulled it back for her to sit in.

She tried to keep the smile off her face, and then realized it was pointless. She walked over to her chair, looking with interest at the table, and then he pushed it in and took his own seat. But before he sat, he pulled the color up and presented it for her to see.

It was a bouquet of snapdragons.

She turned very, very red, almost the same deep crimson as the flowers. There were wine-colored one, violet ones, orange ones with white stripes. She watched him put them in the vase and turned her head down, letting her hair form a sort of curtain. She was embarrassed, but pleased. But also confused.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, bringing her head back up.

He shrugged. "Reasons."

"Jaime and Lauren?" she guessed, and picked up her fork.

He flushed a bit pink. "Well, a bit. They had the idea, but I wanted to do something."

"I see," she said, picking up her knife and beginning to cut off a chunk of her steak. It was warm, not yet chilled by the air, and when she swallowed a bite it heated her insides a bit. It also tasted good, and that was definitely a plus. "So, what shall we talk about?"

He shrugged again. "That is entirely up to you." He began to eat his steak, too.

"We could talk about co-workers," she suggested.

"That we shall," he said, smiling at how easy she was conversing with him after a week of no contact.

Meredith found herself slipping with each word spoken, with each laugh that the wind carried away joyfully. She was very cold and her stomach very full - she'd now had dinner twice - but he didn't bring up things she didn't want to discuss and talked about things that she found funny and/or acceptable. He seemed to know the proper behavior for their situation, which confused her, and at first she had assumed it was because Jaime and Lauren had trained him. But as the night progressed, she realized that it was because he knew her and respected her. It was like he was reading her mind, but not invading her privacy. It was charming, it was thoughtful, and it made her fall that much harder for him.

Eventually, though, she knew they had to talk about it, and began the conversation with an obligatory grimace. Realizing she was getting serious, his face grew somber. She took a deep breath and began, "Did you mean it?"

"Yes."

The answer was short, honest, but not stiff. It was said pleasantly but seriously, and she was grateful he hadn't gone off on some long speech about yes, he loved her, yes, he would always, yes, it was right, blah blah blah. It was sweet and considerate. "Do you honestly think you do… love… me," she said, with some difficulty, "Or are you kidding yourself?"

He took an awful, stretched-out second to consider it. "I think I love you, Mere," he said, and he didn't smile, but the words made her heart leap. "I have a question, though."

"Anything."

A grin flew through his serious facade for a fleeting moment, but he covered it up again, though his obvious happiness at her trust was still evident. "Why did you not believe it at first?"

The question didn't take her by surprise, but that didn't make it easier to answer. "It's a long explanation," she warned him.

"We've got all the time in the world," he reminded her, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to remain calm.

"Alright," she said. "Because I have loved you, for years, I did see you date other people. And I wanted to go after you, naturally, so I began to condition myself. 'She makes him happy, she makes him happy' over and over again, and I told it to myself so much that I believed it after just a couple months. And when we started dating, I was ecstatic, and it was finally 'I make him happy'. But then we broke up, and I fell back on things I knew I could believe, but it evolved because of recent events. 'She makes him happy, I can't'. That was pretty much my line of thought."

"Mere," he said, and she realized that there were a few cold raindrops falling. But her explanation wasn't done.

"And then we slept together," she said, "and that made things awkward, and I was so fucking scared of losing you - you really have no idea _how fucking scared_ I was of losing you, even as a friend. So I ran away, and kind of froze the circumstances, so it wouldn't happen. But then you said you thought you loved me, and… and…" she had to take another breath to steady herself. More rain was coming now and she had goosebumps on her arms from the cold. The candle was extinguished, but flames were still burning in Brian's eyes, and they were floating on a pool of tears. "I just… I'd told myself for so long that I couldn't make you happy that I just couldn't believe it. And so I ran away again and tried to force you to find someone else to love, because even if you did love me, which I wasn't at all convinced of, you'd be miserable doing it. Not because I'm a bad person," she said, shaking her head, both to clear her eyes of the rain and to put emphasis on her sentence. "I'm a good, nice person, and I know it. Not the best, but decent. I just didn't think I was the person for you."

"What changed your mind?" Brian asked, almost yelling, the rain on his face and the tears mingling.

"This," she said, having to shout now, the thunder nearly drowning her out. "You were happy with me tonight, and… and I was happy, and we were happy together."

Brian had stood up and walked over to her side of the table, where she was sitting, now almost drenched. He said something gently, but she couldn't hear.

"What?" she shouted, standing so as to be closer to his mouth and hear better.

"I love you," he said, loud enough to hear, and she realized he was sobbing as he said it by how thick his voice was. "I love you! I LOVE YOU!" and he was screaming it to the world, and she started to cry, too. Because it was true. Because he meant it and it was true and he was happy and every fiber of her being was screaming for him to kiss her. And he did.

Though the rain blurred both their vision, he still saw her clearly. When you love someone, truly love them, you can't see their shell anymore, just their energy. Their outside disappears when you look at them and all you see is the heart your own heart beats for. Looking at Meredith, he didn't see a girl who was stunningly beautiful; he saw a woman who was caring and gentle and silly and fun and stupid all at the same time. He saw her, not the person the tabloids wanted, but her. And so he leaned in and kissed her.

Kissing in the pouring rain, how cliche. But they didn't care. Because even as the water soaked them, made them cold - or, in Brian's case, pressed his body-warmed jacket closer in, making it a bit more snug but not uncomfortable - their lips were moving in synchronization, a choreographed but completely improvised dance. They had no idea which way their lips were going to move, and just let them press together, let them move together, and when they shifted, twisted, opened, the other's did, too. They orbited around in each other. Both their hearts beat uncontrollably, but both their minds were slowed, paused in the moment. Her hands came up slowly and one elbow rested on his shoulder, her fingers clutched into his hair and pulled him closer, her other arm wrapping around his neck. His hand didn't twist around her waist, as any other guys' would - he hugged her fiercely, as close as he could, his arms around her upper back instead. She was warmed by him, but chilled by the storm, and both temperatures swirled around and caused a tornado of electricity in her blood. She could tell which were his tears, and which was the rain on his face now.

And they'd thought the sex was great.

"Hey!" yelled a voice, and they broke apart instantly, surprised but still intertwined. "Are you guys coming in, it's pouring!"

Lauren's blurry figure was in the doorway, and then they heard Jaime's voice, shouting back at Lauren, "They're kissing, leave them be!" And they heard the door slam, but they both knew it wouldn't be blocked if they tried to go in now.

Brian grinned cheekily, and went in for another kiss. She complied not only willingly, but desperately - she'd deprived herself of this for so long.


	20. Stay

Brian was looking at her in a way he couldn't ever remember looking at anyone before. Her eyes weren't gold, they were chocolate specked with copper, shining, glinting, warm. Inviting and trusting. Well, not exactly. That was her, the person inside, showing through her glorious eyes. She was enrapturing and wonderful and beyond any words. Their eyes made contact the moment she'd come into sight, and she stared at him, as trapped in him as he was with her.

As she drew closer and the crowd rose to their feet, the wedding song Darren had written for he and the rest of Starkid to sing began to play, and the voices of their best friends intertwined in a harmony that he knew was easy for them - but he knew was hard, all the same, because singing while you're trying not to cry is difficult.

He had only looked at his glowing bride like this once before.

_"Don't come in," she groaned, her head tilted over the bowl of the toilet, her legs to one side, only her fingers holding her up._

_Well, Brian wasn't going to take that. When she'd called in sick, the others had managed to persuade him not to stay with her because he had work to do, and it would only be a couple hours long. They'd kissed only last night, and Brian could still feel the tingle her lips had left on his. But work was over and she was still in the bathroom, and he was freaking out. "Mere, it's me," he called, fighting to keep himself calm._

_Meredith would have sighed in relief if she hadn't been so worried it would make her puke again. "Come in," she said__._

_He opened the door and looked at her. She would have looked pathetic to anyone else; to him, she looked beautiful, as always, because he didn't see the outside. He couldn't anymore. He closed the door behind him quietly and knelt beside her. The smell was bad, there was no denying. Her hair looked like it had been tied messily into a bun, but most of it seemed to have fallen out. She was pale and shaking, and her nose had sounded clogged when she'd spoken. "Do you know what made you sick?" he asked her gently._

_"Rain," she said shortly. "Got a cold. Worth it, though." She gasped suddenly and leaned over the bowl further, vomiting. It wasn't as violent as he'd have thought, but it was still throwing up; he grabbed her hair and held it behind her head. "Sorry," she choked out. "Haven't thrown up since this morning."_

_"Need a glass of water?" he asked her, massaging her back with the hand that wasn't holding her hair._

_"Yes, please." She took a deep breath. "Sorry you had to see me like this."_

_"Why are you sorry that I got to see you looking so pretty?" he asked._

_"Pretty?" she said, bemused. "I'm a mess."_

_"Messes have a certain beauty to them," he said, devotedly. "Especially this one."_

_She gave a shaky laugh. "I'll get your water," he said. "If you feel good enough, I'll make you some soup."_

_"No soup," she said, giving a very small shake of her head. "Too much food already, I had two dinners last night. Just water."_

_"Got it," he said, but before he stood, he took the hairband out of her hair and re-tied her ponytail so it stayed out of her face. "Coming right up."_

_Jaime and Lauren asked about her worriedly right before they walked out the door; he responded that she'd be fine, and asked where they were going. When they said they were going to Kennedy's, he told them to say hi for him, and then went to get Meredith's glass of water. When he returned, she was standing, brushing her teeth._

_"You should have had some water first," he said. "The taste plus the taste of toothpaste must be disgusting."_

_She spit into the sink and rinsed off her brush, and he set her glass of water on the counter. She took one of the small paper bathroom cups they had and filled it with water, quickly swishing it around in her mouth and spitting again. "Tasted nasty anyways," she muttered, drying her face with a towel that was by the knob. She grabbed the cup and turned to him._

_"What have you been doing all day?" he asked her, taking her hand without hesitation and leading her from the bathroom._

_"Well…" she seemed to think about it, and sniffed. "Around three in the morning, I threw up, and then I slept in the bathroom until six, when Jaime woke up and put me in my own bed. Lauren decided to wake me up at seven, because that's what she does, and then I threw up again about half an hour later. I called in sick to work and I've been watching TV all day."_

_"You never ate?" he asked, concerned._

_"Oh, yeah," she said. "About an hour ago, I decided to try and eat something, so I had a plain salad. And then I threw up again." She sniffed again and he sat her down on the couch beside him and handed her a box of tissues. She wiped her nose with one, and threw it into the trash can that was by the couch already. "So I'm still not going to eat anything."_

_"Aw, Mere," he said, not putting his arm around her like someone else would have, but just sitting next to her comfortingly. He didn't pity her, but he made it clear he thought her current predicament sucked. She smiled in appreciation._

_"I had just started watching Peneviere, actually," she said, pointing to the TV screen, which, he realized, had the first scene of the movie paused on it._

_"Well let's watch it," he suggested, grinning at her. "We can cuddle under a blanket and be all couple-y."_

_She laughed. "No blanket, if you please, I'm already too hot."_

_He smiled. "Fine, then. Where's the - oh, there it is." he grabbed the DVD remote that was lying by the trashcan, and pressed Play, settling back into the couch. So his head and shoulders were supported by the crook between the arm of it and the back, and his body was up against the back cushions. Without further questioning, she snuggled up close to him, her back pressing against his front warmly, her head resting on the arm of the couch. He put his arms around her stomach area loosely, and her head shifted back so it was on his chest. Her ankle wiggled in between his, and her hand came up and curled itself around his clasped ones on her torso._

_He focused on the movie for a while, and then it hit him; he was cuddling with his girlfriend on a couch, watching a movie. Taking care of his girlfriend while she was sick._

_And his girlfriend was Meredith Stepien._

_He couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips as his eyes left the screen and traveled to her hair. He bent his head down and kissed the top of it lovingly, and then rested his cheek on it, closing his eyes. He didn't have to see her to be awe-struck. He could feel her, every breath she took. Hear her, the occasional sniffle biting through the quiet. See her even with his eyes closed. He could see her eyes, her hair, her smile. He could see how content she was just to lay in his arms._

_He wondered how many more years it would have had to take him to realize this was his heaven on earth, if he hadn't been put on the show. How much time it would have taken him to finally know he loved her. How long it would have been before he got to hold her like this. And with his eyes closed, breathing in her scent, feeling her warmth against his, loving her with all of him, he couldn't help but marvel._

She stood across from him, her veil shrouding her face the tiniest bit, but she was smiling the sunniest smile ever known to humankind. Ornate little snapdragons kept her veil in place, and the same little snapdragons decorated the hem of her trailing skirt. Denise, the only married female Starkid, stood behind his fiance as the maid of honor, and she winked at him. Lauren and Jaime stood side by side beside her. They'd been upset they hadn't been allowed to be in the song, but Meredith had insisted they be her bridesmaids. They couldn't very well say no, they were a major reason she was getting married in the first place!

Brian knew that behind him, Walker was probably making all sorts of funny faces. As the only one of his friends married, he'd been chosen as best man; but Joey and Dylan stood beside the wacko as groomsmen.

Brian was tempted to look out into the audience for the faces of his sister and parents, like he knew Meredith was tempted to do for her family. But he just couldn't make himself take his eyes from her. She was glorious, she really was better than an angel. She was his religion, the person he lived by pleasing and pleased by living.

He had to give Darren props for writing this. It wasn't slow, like a traditional wedding song, but it wasn't fast. It was delicate, but had a strong beat. And though the lyrics were lost on him (he was much too preoccupied), the soft background harmonizing notes gave it all the more worth. Julia and Darren were holding hands behind the priest, singing the melody, softly but heart-felt. And behind them, in order, was AJ, Chris, Moses, Rosenthal, Lubowhich, Jim, Clark, the Lang Brothers and Brant. The girls were Elona, Devin, Arielle, Lily, Alle-Faye, Brittany and Ali and - the person who had so far showed up at all Starkid weddings, surprising them all - Bonnie. In the audience, he knew Evanna Lynch and Jim Parsons (and his husband and daughter) were there, probably teary-eyed. It was the biggest Starkid reunion ever, no doubt, matching precisely that of Walker and Denise's wedding. Bonnie looked about to piss herself with excitement as she sang along with her friends again.

The sound ended on a note they all recognized - the same ending note that they'd all sang at the end of _Beauty_ from _Starship_. He grinned at Meredith, and then realized nobody was singing her part, and inclined his head toward them softly.

Meredith didn't even think about it, just joined it, her voice becoming the foreground for the song, and the audience all clapped as they realized the groom had joined in, too. They clapped and applauded louder when the sound ended, and Brian felt like his mouth was frozen permanently in the half-laugh, half-smile it was.

The priest began to speak, and Brian could tell that half the audience was crying, not all of them female. He tried to focus on the priest's words, but his fiance was a bit distracting. She made a different face every time the priest started a new sentence, and they differed from crossing her eyes and puffing her cheeks to imitating Scrooge. He had to bite his tongue hard to keep from laughing, and even then a small chuckle escaped which probably confused the audience. But she let loose an accidental giggle at his own laugh, and they both shook with silent laughter as the priest continued, oblivious.

"I believe you two have prepared vows?" he asked after a little while, and Brian grinned. Now was his time to shine. He didn't even have the paper; he had it memorized. But he reminded himself that she went first.

She didn't need her paper either, and began speaking almost right away. "Brian Holden," she said, her voice a bit high with the anxiety and left-over laughter, "I'm fairly certain neither of us expected to be brought together by such fucked-up circumstances." He bit back another laugh; it was so like her to cuss on her wedding day. "But I can say I'm happy about it. I said a long time ago that the first part of loving someone is wanting them to be happy all the time, to feel like they're worth feeling joy, to just be exuberant. I'd like to say it's tying for first place and amend my statement." He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "An equally important and just-as-inevitable part of loving someone is knowing." A few people nodded in agreement; he knew she wasn't done. "Knowing that by making yourself happy, you make them happy. Knowing that when you're sad, they're sad with you. With you, not for you. And that's what today's about - now, when I get you a watch or some other shitty present with our joined bank accounts, I've bought it _with_ you, not _for_ you." The audience laughed and so did Brian. "But you also have to know," she continued, getting serious now, "that you will never stop loving them. Not if they stop loving you, not if they're taken from you, not if they die when you least expect it or even most expect it. Not when they're gone, and more importantly, not when they've been with you so long you're used to them. I can never get used to you, Brian, and I will never not love you, never not need you. And I'm a bit light-headed when I think that I don't have to stop. I love you, Brian, although I'm pretty sure everyone in the audience came here _knowing_ that." She put emphasis on the word, and grinned jokingly again. Congrats, everyone!" she called to them. "You're at the first part of loving!"

They all laughed again, and Brian would have, but he was too busy fighting back the tears in his eyes. He'd be manly today, it was what he was supposed to do. He waited for the crowd to calm down to start talking, and he tried not to let the lump in his throat make his voice thick.

"I had vows prepared," he said, "But I think I'm just gonna make it all up on the spot."

"That's Brian," sighed Joey, and the crowd chuckled, the priest included, distracting everyone from how tight the words had come out. Brian took a deep breath, letting the air clear his head a bit.

"You said you have to know you're never going to stop loving me," he said, speaking to Meredith clearly. "Even if I stop loving you, even if I'm taken from you. That is complete bullshit, Mere, and you know it. Yes, you have to know you'll always love me, that part's true, I know I love you too," he said, when she looked a bit shocked. "I'm talking about the 'stop loving you' part. That is never going to happen, you hear me? No matter how long I live after you, or how long you live after me. No matter what words I say, stupid fights I start, problems I cause. I _can't_ stop loving you. Even if I could, I wouldn't." She was looking at him like a prized jewel, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes shining over with unshed tears. Seeing her own tears brought back his, but if he was going to keep talking, he couldn't stop to fight them; he let them fall, and kept talking. "Now, I know that it took me way too love to realize I'd never stop loving you, but compared to how long I have to celebrate that I did at all, it's nothing. I'm never leaving. I'm never stopping. When I die, you'll cry - well, I hope you'll cry, otherwise this is pointless -" the audience laughed again, but the sound was weak, because they all heard the strain he was putting on his voice by speaking while crying "- and you'll realize I can't hold you or talk to you anymore. I don't know how, Mere, but I'll never leave you alone. I'll find you, stay with you. And when you're done mourning the fact that I stopped living, you can celebrate that I lived at all. Life, Marriage, Death. It's all the same thing with you - a realization, a really fucking bad week or two -" Meredith laughed, but it sounded choked; her tawny eyes had saltwater that was spilling over, "- and then a celebration. I don't know what 'I love you' means, exactly, I don't think there's a science for it. I think, for me, at least, it means, 'Don't give up on me, don't leave me here alone'. I love you. Now you know what I mean every time I say it to you every day for the rest of our lives. I love you."

"Every d-day?" she said, and without thinking, he reached up under her veil to wipe away one of the bigger tears. The crowd _awww_ed, but he didn't pay attention to anything but her.

"Every day," he said, and swallowed his own tears. He was glad Meredith looked so beautiful without make-up, and hadn't put any on - her mascara would have been running.

She sniffed away the runny nose and reached up to wipe her cheeks - he did it for her, and she laughed a watery, appreciative laugh.

"Do you, Brian Daniel Holden, take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, every day for the rest of your lives?"

"I do," he said, and his tears receded respectfully for the exuberant smile that took their places. He was very glad they'd switched the 'Till death do you part' with their own words - considering what he'd just assured her of, it fit perfectly.

"And do you, Meredith Elyse Stepien, take this man to be your lawfully-wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, every day for the rest of your lives?"

"I do." Meredith's voice broke, but it was with the sheer force of ecstasy that was making her beam at him. She looked about reading to just jump into his arms.

The priest seemed uncomfortable for this part, but they'd asked for it specifically. "I now pronounce you Man versus Machine," he said. "Fight!" At least he managed to get enough emotion into the word to keep it at an exclamation point. The crowd roared with laughter this time - over half of them knew what it was from. Brian heard his friends begin to sing their harmony again, soft, like elevator music, in the background.

Brian lifted her veil over her head slowly, and set it behind her, over the small snapdragons. He smiled at her, looked over her face searchingly, and found everything that was stirring in his own chest in her eyes. He took that same, glorious, angelic face - the face that hid an even better interior - between his hands, and kissed her.

The crowd cheered, clapped, cried. The kiss was quick, brief, but passionate - and then they collapsed into each other's arms, their hug more meaningful than any kiss. They were holding each other, for the first time, as man and wife. And they'd better get used to it - it wasn't like they'd ever stop.

He buried his face in her veiled hair, and she buried hers in the crook of his neck. She'd stopped crying, but was still shaking; but with laughter, with happiness, not with tears. He closed his eyes and just let himself hug her as closely, tightly as he possible could, arms around her upper back like the night on the roof. Her arms were positioned the same way, too - one around her head and his neck, and one resting on his shoulder with her fingers knotted in his hair. This was the embrace they had established and they'd never need to change it. They could hold each other, love each other, like this, all the time. Simple, beautiful. They could marvel.


	21. Epilogue

Meredith looked at the little gold band on her finger intensely. It wasn't just a plain gold band, but it didn't have a big flashy diamond. To anyone glancing at it, it was just a gold ring with little waves in it. But it was more than that. The waves formed a pattern of raindrops - or teardrops - whatever you so desired and/or needed at the moment. It was so symbolic to everything that she'd gone through to be able to wear it on her finger… her bony, pale, wrinkled, old finger.

Meredith was actually surprised that cemeteries hadn't changed much in the past seventy-or-so years. Still grass plots with headstones; but there were no gates now. Anyone could waltz in whenever and visit a loved one. She approved heartily. It was so much easier.

She turned her head to the side and read the headstone in front of her.

_Brian Daniel Holden_  
_August 27, 1985 - November 13,_ _2048_  
_Son, Husband, Father_  
_'Every day for the rest of our lives'_

She smiled at it, and the flowers she'd been clutching in her hand - all different sorts - she began to separate. She took the only snapdragon and the only chrysanthemum, and laid them side-by-side in front of the headstone. Her favorite and his favorite.

She then proceeded to move on to the next headstone, and placed the daffodil on Jaime Richter'sand a bleeding heart (_Such a strange thing to name a flower,_ she mused) on Joey's. And the rose on Lauren Lang's grave, and her husband Nick Lang's grave got a head of lettuce, since that's what he'd jokingly answered when questioned on which was his favorite flower. She put the sunflower laying across Julia and Darren Criss's graves together, and so on and so forth until her old hands were shaking too much from the constant work and her arthritis flaring up. But she'd gotten the flowers onto each grave. She was proud of herself.

"Come on, Mom," said Lyn from behind her. "We need to go. We'll be late."

"Yes, of course," said Meredith, holding out her hand for her daughter to help her up. She did, and her blue eyes - so like Brian's - looked at her fondly. Meredith looked down at the little boy on the ground, who refused to be called 'little' because "Eight years old is almost grown-up," as he constantly informed them. "Are you excited, Dan?" she asked him sweetly, and he stood up, slapping the dirt off the back of his pants.

" 'Course," he said, smiling. "I'm good at playing the piano. The recital will be easy."

"I know you're good," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Are you going to be happy to see Aunt Elyse again?"

"Uh-huh!" he said enthusiastically, and they began heading for the car. "And Devin, I miss Devin."

"And Joseph," Lyn reminded her son.

Daniel made a face. "Not really," he said. "He won't let me nickname him."

"That's for a reason, dear," said Meredith. When her third grandchild had arrived, in the legacy of both Joey, Walker and Moses, they had named him Joseph - but, unable to decide whether to call him Joe or Joey, they never nicknamed him. He'd grown accustomed to the name.

Meredith thought of all the unused names on the graves she'd just placed flowers on and wished she'd had enough children and/or grandchildren to use them all, from Jeff to Bonnie, it didn't matter. Of course, a few were still alive - herself, Lily, Jim - but most were gone.

She looked down at her ring once more in the car, and then back at her husband's grave.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered to the block of stone. "Every day."

_**The End**_


End file.
